Hector takes the ship away from the scene with Oriana and Duran aboard the Skyfisher.  Komad had asked them to leave to warn the Republic, and away they go.

You're up in the atmosphere, about to leave it.  You'll have some of an Imperial fleet to contend with, at least.
This message was last updated by the GM at 15:24, Fri 07 Sept 2012.

++"Well... I can't say that's how I thought this trip to Corellia would be ending.  Feel like circling around to the other side before we break atmosphere?  I could use some time on the ship, and perhaps they've not got the whole thing encircled yet."++

Duran sat in the gunners mount, swivelled upside down watching the landscape shrink, shaking his head he said over the com++Whatever you want, I have to think of how I am going to explain this to the council, never mind the Republic Generals, without us getting killed for cowardice...although it helps that Seely ordered us out now.++

He sighed as he reached up to run his hands over his face++Once were out and clear I need to tell the two of you what happened down there....this is really messed up right now but at least we have plenty of beds now.++

++"Of all the things to be pissed off about, or worry about, or feel relieved about, you're going to comment on the number of beds?"++ Oriana's laugh comes through clearly on the comm, along with the sound of her turret harness being unbuckled.  ++"How much damage is showing up there? I know that bastard Sith hurt her, but it's up to you if you want to give me an hour to fix her before we bust past this fleet and head to Coruscant."++

Oriana's comm goes quiet for a few seconds - clearly less than ten - before there's a *thud* in the hall, followed by a cacophony of jingling from her tool belt, as she lands on her feet after sliding down the ladder.

"All systems = optimal | Damage to Skyfisher = negligible."

Duran chuckled into the intercom, his attempt at levity had worked, unlike everything else other than shooting++They didn't get many shots in after I got in, suppose it wouldn't hurt to fix it before we take on the Imperial fleet. Hector you want me to stay in here or can I do something useful up there?++

He run a hand over his face, trying to work out what had gone wrong. What did the Force have in mind for them?

"++If you ask me, every one of you who went down there has gone insane.  Probably something one of those Sith did.++" Hector shook his head, and put them on a course that would have them leave the atmosphere with a good amount of distance between them and the fleet - essentially putting the planet between them.  From there, it would be a simple matter of plotting a few jumps to take them back to Coruscant.

"++Jedi, there is literally nothing we can be criticized for here.  We're following orders, that's what will matter to them at the end of the day.  If the Republic - or your Jedi Masters - feels that was a bad idea, then all hope for this war really is lost.++"

"Thanks, little guy," Oriana stops to rub X2, while ducking into the communications center and making sure that all of the comm lines are open, just in case one of those damn fools on the ground gets a wild hair up their ass.

"That bitch tried to fry my ship," she mutters, stalking the rest of the way into the cockpit.  Instead of dropping into her co-pilot's chair, she stops behind Hector, and drapes her arm over the shoulder and headrest of the seat, watching the view out the front panes of transparisteel.  After a moment, she reaches past and flips the toggle on the console, keying up the ship-wide comm, ++"May as well get out and stretch a bit.  We'll have a few minutes before we have to run past them... if they're even there."++

Duran locked the cannon and slipped out, making his way up to the cockpit, frowning a little to see Oriana's arm over Hector's chair he sighed, it was like getting worried about the beds. So small in comparison to the problems they now faced.

"Hector, please, do me the decency to call me by my name. I don't call you smuggler or pilot. I am still a person, no matter what you may think." Shaking his head he collapsed in one of the other seats and sighed,"The problem is I don't think we should be following these orders. They don't make sense how is she planning on getting off the planet....I can't just wash my hands of this and say it's an order...."

Feeling his heart constrict at all the conflicting emotions he tried to focus on the force, tried to calm himself. Sighing at last he said,"Suppose I should tell you what we found down below. There is a huge factory under there, we had to descend on a lift down into a facility that seemed to be making something, mostly droid driven, someone said it was grenades but damn if I knew."

He paused trying to collect his thoughts,"We were taken to a room with a holoprojector, one that sprang to life soon afterwards. There we met our double agent, Darth Imperius and that's where it all went to hell." He sat back and looked up at Oriana,"She claimed to have sent a message to Master Mul, but he didn't get a message he sensed a disturbance, so someone was lying right from the start. She claimed that the invasion started to early, and that she wanted to get her daughter off, a force sensitive, before the Sith captured her and took her to Korriban."

It made even less sense now that he was thinking about it,"So our orders came from a Sith Lord, and she wanted us to round up the Force Sensitives as well as her daughter. We didn't get more as then she told us about the attack on the two of you, which is when I warned Oriana about the Force Users, of course she knew already....and then it just took forever for us to get to the surface...."

He shook his head,"It's all so....what is it you say Ori....Karked up....."

Just want to point out that Orth himself called it a message.

Only after first saying it was a vision or feeling and even then he emphasised message as though he wasn't sure. It was not clear that it was a message from a person or the force, or at least not to me and reading the others responses I don't think to them either :D

Hector sighed, and turned back to Duran.  "You wanna know why I keep calling you Jedi?  Its because you still don't seem to realize we're a part of this team too.  You suppose you should tell us?  You damn well should have told us the very instant you found out.  Instead, you all come up out of that manor, give us no information to speak of, and wonder why we think this is all karking insane."  He shook his head, and focused then on the 'information' he was finally being given.

"Now, you wanna know why I have a problem with this whole situation?  You all are taking the word of a Sith.  Not only that, but a Sith Lord.  You should not be trusting a single word she says.  I'd be more willing to trust Kai Marigg with my starship than I am a Sith their word."

Oriana can't help but snicker at that comparison, although she quickly stifles it.  She drops her head down to rest on her arm, speaking softly in what would be a reprimanding tone, if it weren't for the fact that she's obviously trying not to laugh more, "Chess ko, shado an azalus."[Private to Hector Terrachova: "Careful, fast and dangerous."]  She grins rather blatantly at Hector, and then turns her attention to Duran as well, reaching up with her free hand to push her glasses up atop her head.

"Hector's right.  This entire situation is karked, thanks to the lack of information.  We're in luck, though.  I put a hypertransceiver on this baby just last year.  If we can get out of the Corellian system, we can contact General Garza without having to jump all the way back to Coruscant."

She shrugs, and straightens, although she leaves her arm resting on the back of the chair.  "At the very least, I think she might want to know that her hand-picked team seems to be off its karking rocker.  At worst, what if Master Orth is a traitor, too?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:22, Sun 10 June 2012.

Duran was very glad that Oriana found it funny, the sheer joy that oozed out of him could have killed at hundred yards. Standing slowly he bowed to the two of them, a very Jedi thing,"I am sorry, I didn't realize this team was allowed only two members. I see the rest of the spaces are taken."

He breathed deeply as he stood looking at them both,"I am not part of the team because I trusted you, because I am the only member of the ground squad who returned to the ship because you asked me to smuggler. I'm also the only one who agreed that we should shoot the Sith. I can see how this is not being part of the team. Of course I should have shared the information with you while deep underground where comlinks don't work, or perhaps as I ran out when we were all shooting....but no, silly me I waited for the first moment where no one was being shot at and no one was in trouble."

He shook his head, looking at Oriana specifically,"And speaking in a language I don't understand. That fills me with joy to know that I am not part of the team that speaks that language so you can say what you will about me."

Clearly struggling to maintain his calm he bowed again before walking out, heading to the room offered to Shanda, he knew she at least had nothing that would surprise him. He had made a big mistake coming with these two, obviously.

Hector kept his mouth shut until Duran left, though he was unable to keep from smiling at Oriana's little aside.  He wasn't surprised that Duran assumed it was an insult to him though, considering the circumstances.  Once he was gone, Hector leaned back in his seat, letting out a tremendous sigh.

"This is just a mess of a situation.  That kid's gotta learn when its not just him being criticized... the whole group of them had, what, two full minutes from when they left the bunker to give us a clue what was going on?"

"More than enough time, but what's done is done."  Oriana sighs in a similar fashion, moving to the side as Hector's chair rocks back.  With a wry smirk on her lips, she leans back against the center console and hooks her thumbs in her pockets.  "Wouldn't kill you to call him by name, though, you know? This situation sucks enough without having to deal with a sulky Jedi.  At least he didn't shoot us."

The expression that crosses Oriana's face as she says this leaves little doubt in the mind as to whether or not she and Shanda Rell are, in fact, going to have some words about that at a later date.  She sighs and turns her attention to the swiftly passing horizon of Corellia, only to pivot her head back around after a moment or two.  She knew she was going to have to go smooth things over with the Jedi, but she thought it best to give him some time to calm down.  It had been a pretty stressful past half hour, all things considered.  Probably moreso for him.

She regards Hector appraisingly, albeit in a legitimately non-predatory fashion.  "So what do you want to do?  It's your ship they're holding hostage, not mine, and as much as I don't want to see all of Corellia overrun with Imperials, I could take or leave those idiots on the ground."

"When he stops acting like a kid, I'll start using his name," Hector replied.  "The sarcasm, followed by storming off didn't exactly help him.  I'll grant that its a tough situation, but still." He shrugged, turning back to the controls to make sure they were on the right course.

"In all honesty, there's no point in heading back.  I don't like leaving them there, but they're all to thick-headed to see how its a terrible idea.  What more can we do, but get out of here and et a message off to the Republic?"

"Not much.  I was more askin' how you wanted to go about doing that."  Oriana glances out the window again, and then back down the corridor.  "We're going to have to get out of this system to get a message out that the Imperials don't intercept, and you know as well as I do, they're going to send us back in.  That's twice through the blockade, which means I need to go coax sulky back onto his gun before we hit it."

She pushes off the center console and drops casually into her seat, pulling up their current coordinates, as well as the closest friendly systems.  "I wouldn't mind some place friendly enough to dock for a few hours, too." The grin she flashes in Hector's direction says quite clearly that she's at least contemplating wasting a few hours to give the ground team time to suffer a bit in their stranded state.

"Preferences?"

"Well, getting past the Sith on our way out here won't be too bad; they're focusing on the far side of the planet from where we're leaving.  The way I see it... we make it out, make a jump somewhere safe, send off that transmission."  He glanced back to Oriana and nodded. "We can rest up then, and decide how to go about extracting the team from there.  Maybe they'll have completed the mission by then, who knows." He looked back, checking that they were getting through the upper atmosphere.

"I think its a solid plan either way.  Give us some time to plan.  Hell, seeing this ship leave might fool the Sith into thinking the entire team left.  Could take some of the heat of."

Oriana chuckles. "I wouldn't hold my breath that they complete the mission without us, but I won't cry if they do." Her fingers flash over the console in a practiced fashion, although it seems more like she's just idly surfing through maps of the area than looking for anything in particular.

"You're right about the Sith, if they saw us leave."  She drags her hands through her hair, shaking it loose and then twisting it up again, mulling over her thoughts in the process.  "I can't hide from them.  What Shanda said, it was probably true.  If they saw us leave, close enough to sense us on board..." She trails off and glances over, leaving the rest of her thought unspoken.  The Sith might completely ignore the team on the ground, if they thought the Jedi were on the Skyfisher.

Just for clarity sake, from our narrative thread it 'seemed' like we went straight from underground, without communication, to battle...do there was no two minutes. Of course it may have seemed different from your side, we were running the whole time.

Duran settled down in the room, he didn't know what had happened but at least now he knew where he was. His anger and frustration was blinding him and that was the way to the dark side.....It was time to get some focus, some distance, that was what he needed.

Assuming a seated position on the floor, legs crossed, he took ten small blocks out of his pocket and placed them just in his peripheral vision. Then calling on the force, and stilling his center he started to move them.

The blocks floated over his head and piled themselves into a pyramid one block at a time before repeating in the reverse direction. A calming exercise that required enough focus to still idle thoughts but left space for feelings to come to the surface while he waited for them to ask for him to man the gun...at least they needed him for that.

A block wobbled at the thought, focus, clarity.

A faint noise of annoyance escapes Oriana, and she shuts down the maps she'd pulled up on her console.  "I really thought I'd gotten past having to deal with Jedi, you know?" she asks, not really waiting for a response as she stands up and knuckles at her back.  She flashes a grin in Hector's direction while pulling her glasses back down onto her face, and nods.  "Holler if you need me, or when you decide where we're going, I'm going to go see if I can't smooth some ruffled feathers before we hit any resistance."

With that, she turns and strides out of the cockpit, trailing her fingers over the corner of Hector's seat, and then the seat behind that, as she passes.

Oriana meanders to the port side cabins first, in her quest to locate Duran.  Finding no Jedi, but a pile of her stuff scattered about the captain's cabin, she takes a few moments to scoop her possessions up and dump them into one of the footlockers built into the room.  Almost as an afterthought, she plucks the woven metal bracelet out of the pile, twisting it in her hands as she returns to the opposite side of the ship.

As usual, the sound of her heavy boots echoing on the plated floors of the Skyfisher precedes her down the starboard hallway.  Noting that two of the cabin doors stood open, but one was slightly ajar, Oriana stops and leans up against the wall next to the last, rapping twice on the door with the backs of her knuckles.

"Duran?"
This message was last edited by the player at 12:56, Mon 11 June 2012.

Duran breathed deeply as he heard the footsteps, and again as he recognized Oriana's voice. Putting the block down he said in a very monotone voice,"Come in, what do you need me to do, Ma'am." His face was as impassive as he could make it, which was not very with Duran, but he wasn't angry.
[Private to Oriana Cy'Kast: Her stuff was piled neatly, by the by ;) He's a perfectionist.]

"Not call me 'ma'am', for starters. Makes me feel old."  Oriana chuckles as she nudges the door open with her boot, and enters the room.  Taking note of Duran's position on the floor, she casually crosses to the other side and sinks down in almost the same pose, facing him and offering a brief smile.  She crosses her boots at the ankles, and pulls her knees up, letting her elbows rest upon them.  Her hands dangle between her knees, still idly turning her bracelet between them as she regards Duran silently for a moment or two.

"I owe you an apology, Duran.  I didn't speak in Huttese because I wanted you to not understand.  It's the language I grew up with, and some things are easier to say in it.  Chess ko, shado an azalus," she repeats again, more slowly this time.  "It isn't an insult, and it wasn't directed at you.  I was just chiding Hector for making that crack about Kai Marigg."

[Private to Duran: "Careful, fast and dangerous" is what it translates to.  The pose she's assumed, it's one Duran should know from the lessons of his youth, spent sitting in circles on the Temple floor.  It's a Jedi pose.

And yes, I know he piled everything up, but I'm assuming it got tossed around a bit during the barrel rolling of the Skyfisher through the Imperial fleet, since it wasn't secured. :)]

She was good, she was very good, she was flaunting her Jedi training, she was trying to placate him. She was trying to entice him into treating her like someone he trusted, except he didn't, not anymore.

He nodded,"Apology accepted, Ms Cy'Kast, and I don't know who Kai Marigg is." He caught sight of her bracelet, and his face coloured slightly, she must know he had moved her stuff, but he fought for control. Looking to one of the blocks he focused and it lifted up over his head, only his eyes moving to follow it as it floated through the air.

As he set it down he said,"I presume there is some point to this, you want me to man the guns? Are we ready to move through the blockade. I will do what I have to do, I know you will require that."
[Private to Oriana Cy'Kast: Heh, forgot about the barrel roll....he's got really high force perception and no skill at deception. So he knows what you're up to, sort of, at least your obvious motive as he sees it, but is blunt as all hell ;)]

Oriana sighs, shaking her head.  She slips the bracelet onto her wrist and reaches up to peel her glasses off, letting them replace the jewelry in-between her dangling fingers.  It's almost as if she can't stand to not have something in her hands to fidget with.

"I don't require your assistance on the guns," she retorts, her dark eyes flashing briefly with a touch of anger.  "I have a name, and it isn't 'Ms. Cy'Kast'.  It's Oriana.  What I require is that some common courtesy start getting shown around here, and yes, from me too.  I promised you a conversation, earlier.  I'm here to deliver, and it came with a side of apology."

She frowns, flipping her glasses over in her hands.  "If you don't want that, then fine.  Go ahead and judge us the same way everyone else has.  I suppose that's your right."

[Private to Duran: There's absolutely not the slightest shred of duplicity or deception in Oriana at the moment, since Duran's got his Force perception feelers out and running. ]

"I have a name, no one seems to care. Why are you allowed to get angry but not me?" His voice was flat, as he levitated another block over his head,"I didn't see you exactly jumping to my defence when Hector was laying into me....lack of action is an acceptance of another's actions. So you feel the same way he does.."

He sighed as she mentioned the conversation and that he judged her,"So you do feel the same way as he does." He focused again the block moving less smoothly than before, he knew she was getting to him, he just couldn't do this,"Why does he react like that towards me?"

"Have I ever failed to call you by name, Duran?" she asks, fixing him with a level stare.  "I don't think I have, it's not my style.  As for not jumping to your defense when Hector was railing about no one telling us anything?" She sighs, dragging a hand through her hair.  "He was right.  I'm not going to tell him - or you - that you're wrong if I don't think you are.  Shanda and Seely took plenty of time to lecture us about 'completing the mission', and leaving.  You and I both know they could have taken that same time to explain what the karking mission was.  It's like no one trusts us, and so they want to keep us in the dark."

"...and frankly, that's insulting.  Just because we aren't here by choice doesn't mean we aren't going to do what we're supposed to do.  I know all about 'duty', and I imagine Hector does too.  I also know all about common sense, and not taking jobs given by the enemy at face value."

Oriana folds her hands together between her knees, leaving her glasses dangling from her fingertips.  For a long moment, she studies Duran, thinking about how to answer his last question.

"I can only speculate, Duran.  Do you want my opinion as a woman, or as a smuggler?"

Duran sighed,"So why take it out on me? I told him as soon as I could. I  couldn't really talk after he turned me off, so my chances to say anything on board were nil, and you think he's right to judge me based on others actions not on my own? How is that different from what you claim I am doing to you?"

"Oriana," he said the name deliberately, as though forcing ,"Why do you think I am here if I don't trust you? When Hector says get on board I do, when the others say don't leave them behind then I say I trust you and him, although only with the ship. I have not kept you in the dark, I updated you every chance I had when the comms were down."

"And still you think he's right? It's not that I don't trust you but neither of you are prepared to treat me separately from the others, yet here I am alone, clearly a different choice from everyone else?"

At her last question a smile lifted the corner of his mouth,"You can separate them? What's the difference?"

Oriana sighs, leaning forward and resting her chin on the backs of her hands.  "I don't think he was taking it out on you personally, Duran.  You just happened to be there at the time."  She offers a wry grin, adding, "You have to understand, us reckless scoundrels are hot-blooded.  We aren't like Jedi, that keep all their emotions under wraps.  Sometimes that means we flare up in the wrong direction."

She shrugs as a means of changing the subject, shifting to his next question.  "I'm not judging you on their actions, and I know you haven't kept us in the dark.  That doesn't change the fact that Seely and Shanda, the two highest-ranking people on this little venture, were." The corners of her mouth twist slightly.  "They didn't even trust us to still be there with the ship, until you said we would be.  Surely you can understand how insulting that is?"

"I don't think he's right to bitch that no one told us anything.  I know he's right, because it's my opinion too.  That doesn't mean I'm angry at you over it, I'm just angry, and I think we have every right to be."

She grins a bit at the last, and straightens, returning to fiddling with her glasses between her fingers.  "As a smuggler, I'd say it's because we don't have any time for bullshit in our line of work.  Everything is upfront, and on the line, and there's no room for being childish or sulky or easily offended." She fixes her eyes on Duran as she adds that last bit, continuing in a slightly more gentle tone, "And before you get your back up, you have been being a bit easily offended."  Oriana flashes a teasing grin in the Jedi's direction, confident that she knows she's right, in that assessment.  "As for the other," she shrugs, her grin never fading.  "You're both male.  Bravado and hubris are second nature to us, a meek smuggler is a poor smuggler.  If you aren't cock of the walk, someone else is."

"And so I must just take it when he decides to lash out at me?" He looked at her sceptically,"Would you take it?" He waved a hand at her hip,"I've seen how quick the blaster is to come out, I don't think you'd have taken it as well as I did if it was you...."

He shrugged,"There you go again, that makes no sense, how can he be right to complain about everyone when I told you as soon as I could. Yes, Shanda and Seely could have told you earlier, so could I if I hadn't had the comms turned off."

He listened to her take on smugglers and males and then snorted, the humour rapidly evaporating,"Ahhh, I get offended easily, sulk and act like a child? I didn't threaten everyone that I was leaving in fifteen seconds, I didn't turn off the comm or insult the only person who was listening to him." He shook his head,"What link does he have with you that he doesn't get the same assessment? How come he can act like you say smugglers shouldn't?"

That was a good example of double standards,"The last one is more likley, for some reason he's threatened by me. I don't know why, our skills lie in different directions altogether."

"You know you're siding with him because you think he's the only one you can trust. You think I'm going to judge you and find you wanting, you think he's the same as you."

Oriana laughs, grinning broadly.  "I have tried to shoot him several times in the past, Duran.  Hell, if I'd been armed, I'd have shot him again just two days ago.  You can ask him, he'll back that up... and no, I wouldn't have taken it that easily.  I give as good as I get."  Her amusement in saying the last strongly implies that Duran, too, would be better off if he went tit-for-tat with Hector, instead of stomping off.

She grins over her glasses, smirking slyly across the room at the Jedi.  "I didn't say you were the only one that got offended easily, but offense is one of those things that tends to build in circles.  One person gets offended, then the other gets offended, then the first gets offended more.  It's a vicious cycle, and we need to stop it, if just because it irritates the hell out of me.  We're all supposed to be on the same side."

She shrugs, slipping her glasses onto her face, "As for the last, let's just say that I'm used to being judged by Jedi and found wanting."  Oriana deftly ignores the baiting comment about her and Hector's similarities.  It didn't take a Jedi to know they were cut from the same cloth.

Duran smirked at her talk of shooting him,"Good, if he ever...." He looks away,"Well it's perhaps better that you shoot him than I find out...I...I... saw the way you looked when he suggested you share the bed....I don't trust him in that area."

He looked at her sly smirk and then tilted back,"Yes, so we both get easily offended, did you talk to him about it, or just me?"

When she spoke about Jedi he leaned forward impulsively, taking hold of her hand,"No, I don't know about him, or Shanda, but you are not found wanting by this Jedi....you have a good heart, and I do still want to find out what happened between you and the Jedi, that you are walking around showing some of our training but none of the philosophy....it's disturbing"

He said the last word in the same way that his master used to say when he spoke of a disturbance in the force, clearly slightly mocking. He stopped when he realised he was holding her hand, with a shake of his head he let go,"Ori, I'd trust you a lot further than just about anyone on this mission, okay? Just try not to give me my judgements, let me make up my own mind..."
[Private to Oriana Cy'Kast: Let the hilarity ensue!]

"If he ever what, Duran?"  Oriana lifts an eyebrow, corners of her mouth twitching in that way they do when she's fighting hard to keep from grinning.

Her eyebrow creeps the tiniest bit higher when the Jedi takes her hand, although she doesn't pull away.  Instead, she goes perfectly still.  It wasn't the first time some man had impulsively grabbed onto a part of her person, much less a mundane portion like her hand.  The corners of her mouth twitch the tiniest bit more, as he finishes speaking, and she nods.

"Don't worry.  If it's one thing I don't do, it's make choices for others."

He flushed at her question, although he suspected that she knew, at least if her hidden grin was anything to go by. Looking down he said,"You know....if he....forced....made....did something you didn't want." His face was flaming by the end as he glanced up at her, sure she was laughing at him.

In an attempt to turn the tables a little he said,"But if you want that, just let me know....please..." He waited a beat,"I don't want to barge in lightsaber bazing if you're...." He couldn't do it, looking down he mumbled,"Willing."

The last bit made him sigh,"Then don't guess what I think about you...just ask." Still flushed a little he said,"Now, where did you learn about the Force...." At least this was safe, he thought.

Oriana was anything but laughing at the poor, flustered Jedi.  In fact, she almost felt sorry for him, but she had rather wanted to know what it was he thought Hector was going to get up to.  That he thought, well, what he thought was a little distressing.

"Duran," she starts, adopting the most reassuring tone she's capable of, "I think you're selling Hector short, if you think he'd do that... and I can promise you that he wouldn't have to.  I'm a big girl, I can look after myself in that regard."  She opens her mouth as if to say something else, and then thinks the better of it, cracking a teasing grin instead.  "I appreciate the gesture, though you're about a decade too late to be protecting my virtue."

She shrugs, then, and deftly changes the subject.  "Same place you did, a bunch of grumpy old Force users that saw a kid that could use it."

He wouldn't have to

The rest of what she said was just her mouth moving as his brain tried to process something that he just couldn't understand. The first emotion was disappoint, the second irritation and the third embarrassment as his entire body from the toes up went bright red.

"Oh Shit."

"Oh Shit"

He looked up at her and then covered his face with his hands,"You two are in a relationship.....oh, no wonder he's being like that. He thinks I like you, oh shit. I'm trying to protect you from your....ummm...."

The word lover brought back images of her holobook and lacy bits and he scrambled to his feet,"Oh crap, I'll have to go apologise, I didn't know. I didn't know.....he's going to laugh at me, isn't he?"

"Ahhh, I thought he was just teasing me when he warned me." He looked at her mortified as he leapt from one conclusion to another,"I'll swap rooms with Shanda or Seely if we get them back...I don't want to intrude."

A final crimson blush scoured his face as he realised how foolish he had been.

Oriana blinks up at Duran, completely flabbergasted at the way his mind leaps across giant, gaping crevasses of logic.  Had he so soon forgotten that they'd all just met not two days ago?  Clearly, she was going to have to be a bit more plain in her insinuations around the Jedi.  Of course, his distress had distracted him from his other question...

She chuckles, and rolls smoothly up to her feet as well, shaking her head.  "It's not quite what you think, Duran.  Emotions are complicated, isn't that what the Jedi teach?" She punctuates this query with a grin and a shrug, adding, "Sometimes, they aren't, especially when the brink of war reminds you just how short life can be."

"No need to change rooms, when we find the others again.  At the moment, I don't think I'd trust Shanda or Seely not to shiv me in my sleep." Oriana inclines her head in the direction of the door, still grinning.  "Of course, if you want to go apologize, that sure can't hurt.  I need to go check on the engines and then get back up there, anyway."

Duran get's even more confused, she is clearly not helping her case here at all,"I don't understand. What do you mean the emotions aren't complicated...." He fumbles a little as he tries to work it out,"Are you....you know..."

He shook his head as her emphasis on quite sunk in,"Ahhh, this is embarrassing....you are..." He sat down,"I don't think I can apologise right now. I'll just leave you two alone a bit..."

No wonder Hector had been an ass, he thought Duran was trying to get in on his game. Not something Duran could do but with a woman like Oriana...what was he thinking. He glanced at her and just blushed,"Well, that explains that at least."

Eventually, they were clear of the atmosphere, and heading well out of the planet's gravity well.  Fortunately, none of the Sith Fleet had come out this far, so it was smooth sailing.  He sat back, considering their options.  Most of the destinations he could think of were almost a half a day away in Hyperspace, putting them out of the running.  He sighed, and on a whim, brought up the navigation charts.  Using a special locator code known to most smugglers, he brought up the current (estimated) location of Port Nowhere and found that, much to his surprise, it wasn't far away.  No more than an hour or two, in fact.

Fingering the comm, he sent a short message out.  "++If you're interested, we have a destination now.  Buckle up, we'll be jumping in a few minutes.++"  With that said, he glanced back, and ordered X2 to calculate the coordinates they would need to make the jump.

X2 responds in the customary binary noises.  "Request = handled."  The astromech finishes quickly.

Oriana laughs, cracking a grin at the poor flustered Jedi.  "I mean, Duran, that sometimes emotions are simple.  It's okay to admit liking what you like.  I like fast and dangerous," she shrugs, moving towards the door.  "Sorry if that makes me out to be less of a good person, but pretending to virtues I don't have has never been my style."

"Don't be embarassed, though," she smiles, reaching out to pat the Jedi on the cheek.  Then, just as easily as she'd slipped into the room in the first place, Oriana slips out, headed towards the cockpit to see what this destination was.

And Hector was fast and dangerous....Duran was not.

Shaking his head he wondered where that last thought had come from. Pushing it aside he followed her out, touching her arm he said,"It doesn't make you less of a good person, just makes me more of an idiot. I'll talk to him when I get a chance. He should know he doesn't have to flex his muscles around me."

With that he headed towards the Ion Cannon, strapping himself in and saying over the com++Ready when you are, Mr Terrachova.++ He ha said that she was too much of a woman for Duran to handle, he was right, he didn't understand half of what she said, and even then it just confused him more, not that he was interested...he had the Force.

As usual, Oriana's footfalls precede her into the cockpit, right about the time that Duran's voice comes over the comm.  She pauses, tilting her head to listen, and then catches Hector's eye.  Shaking her head, she chuckles, "I think he needs a minute or twelve alone.  Where are we going?"

Oriana moves to lean her elbows on the center console, so that she can peer at the nagivation charts.

Hector merely rolled his eyes when he heard Duran's voice over the comm.  He was in the turret it seemed... although he didn't exactly see a need for it.  With a shrug to Oriana, he gestured at the navigation charts as he set the ship on course.  They would be out of the gravity well in less than a minute, and he had his hand on the hyperspace levers already.

"Port Nowhere," he said, grinning.  "Turns out they're quite close now, between Corellia and Rendilli.  I can't think of a better place to hole up for a while." He noted their position, and saw they were clear of the gravity well.  He paused before pushing them to hyperspace, however, and looked back, pulling his hand away from the levers. "You wanna do the honors?" he asked, with a chuckle.

"I didn't think you believed I could fly?" Oriana retorts, slipping around to the other side of the center console.  She smirks and glances down at Hector, one eyebrow lifted somewhat dubiously, while subtly bracing herself against the front corner of the center console.  Her fingers tap lightly upon the levers that would push them to hyperspace, debating for a moment before curling around the smooth metal bar.  She'd seen this done hundreds of times, but the truth was that she'd never gotten to do it herself... and she'd be damned if she admitted that.

"Why Port Nowhere?" she asks, not really waiting for an answer before reaching back and bracing her free hand against the corner of the seat, and then pulling the lever.  Even braced, the sudden jump of the Skyfisher rattles her balance.

"I've never doubted you could pilot a ship, but flying on is a different matter.  Piloting is what most people do in a ship - flying is what I do.  Into and out of combat situations, through blockades, and so on.  I mean no offense when I say that is not your area of expertise."  He smiled, and watched as she took hold of the lever.  He had offered it to her on the assumption that, as the Engineer, she rarely got the chance to do so.  Making the jump to hyperspace... there was something special about it, having all that power at your fingertips - a power that, to this day, even the smartest scientists only had a tenuous understanding of.  The gesture probably meant more to her, given that she was the ship's Engineer.

"Why not?" he asked, ready to steady her if the jump took her completely off balance.  He doubted it would, of course.  "Its probably the safest place in the galaxy, in all honesty.  Few know where it is at any given time, and capable of jumping on its own in case of trouble.  Plus, they tend to have a rather large selection of fine liquor, due to traveling around a lot."

Oriana nods, really only half listening to Hector.  With her eyes closed and a smile on her face, her hand still curled about the hyperspace levers, she's listening to her ship.  Oh, Kai Marigg's name might be on the registration, but the crux of what made the Skyfisher the ship that it was, that was hers.  She knew every bolt and wire of every individual section, and right now she was caught up in listening to them sing in that way that only a ship moving through hyperspace could.

"No offense taken," she murmurs once the ship settles into its pace, right before opening her eyes once more.  Oriana knew none was meant.  What Hector did, she didn't have the skill to do, and there was no shame in admitting that.  She very strongly doubted he'd be able to dismantle her hyperdrive and put it back together, either, by comparison.

Reluctantly peeling her fingers off the controls, she turns to lean back against the center console, resting both hands behind her.  "So you think they'll be looking for us, or is the liquor selection more of a concern than the safe harbor?" she asks, flashing him a bit of a teasing grin.

"My dear, fine liquor is always a concern," Hector replied, swinging the chair around to better see Oriana.  Now that they were in hyperspace - and would be for a couple hours or so - he didn't need to be at the helm all the time.  "But if the Sith are looking for us, they'll only have a direction.  Rendilli will likely be their first choice, and with nothing in between, they won't think to search where we are.  No one knows Port Nowhere's coordinates but us smugglers, and even those of us that know have to keep vigilant, as the search code changes frequently."

Hector glanced toward the doorway for a moment. "D'you think Marigg had anything to drink stored around here?  You know, to tide us over until we get there?" He had multiple intentions, of course, but above all... he was interested in seeing what the Duros' taste in liquor was.

"I wouldn't know, I've never been. I think Marigg avoided Port Nowhere at all costs.  For good reason, apparently," she replies with more than a trace of amusement.  It was obvious, after the story Hector had told her, why the Duros had refused to even contemplate stopping there.

"Depends on whether or not we're lucky.  The holds looked pretty clean, so I suspect Garza's thugs found the crate stashed beside the airlock motors, but it's worth a look.  He usually kept a few bottles spare beneath the bed too, you know, just in case." She snickers as she says this, fully aware of what constituted Marigg's 'just in case'.  Contrary to the propaganda, not every Twi'lek dancing girl was worth dragging to bed without a hefty increase in blood alcohol level.

"Wanna go look?"

"That's a pity, really.  Port Nowhere really is something.  Its a converted dreadnaught I believe - or it was decades ago.  More of a mashup of ships now, fitting together to make a mobile station of sorts."  Hector wasn't surprised at Oriana's assessment.  He figured the good General would've searched all the obvious places, and perhaps much of the less obvious ones.

That said, storage beneath the bed was likely a place to be ignored; as it was a smaller compartment most likely, you wouldn't expect to find much of importance there.  "That sounds like a good idea.  Would be good to get a look at the room too," he noted.  Ever since taking off from Coruscant, he hadn't gone in there.  There had simply been other things to do.  "Lead on then, Oriana."  With that said, he turned the chair and stood, stretching out a bit while he waited for Oriana to start down the hall.

Oriana smirks and is unable to resist looking Hector over as he stretches, although she quickly covers by rolling her head about on her neck and turning to head out of the cockpit.  "Keep an eye on things, little guy."  She pauses to rub X2's head on the way past, as she usually does, before making a beeline to the starboard hold, confident that Hector's following right behind her.

It doesn't take them long to determine that as predicted, the good General has cleaned them out.  Unsurprising, really, given the absence of everything else of value the Skyfisher had been carrying.  Garza was thorough, if nothing else.  She had to give the old bat that much.  "That would've been the good stuff.  I can almost promise you that whatever is in the cabin isn't going to be up to your standards."

Upon reaching the cabin door, Oriana pushes it open and pauses in the doorway.  It's an unassuming cabin, save for its size: furnished simply with a double bed built foot-first into the back outer corner, and a desk and padded bench tucked up against the wall that adjoins the mate's cabin.  In the other far corner sits a comfortable chair, obviously somewhat akin to the ones in the cockpit.  Damn, she mutters to herself, spotting something lacy dangling off the far corner of the desk, that she'd obviously missed in her hasty pick-up earlier.  Ignore them.  He won't notice.

"Now, if I remember rightly..." she starts, slipping into the room and heading directly for the bed.  "There should be a compartment in the corner, and another to the side."   On a mission, Oriana crawls onto the bed and immediately begins methodically running her hand around the crevice where it adjoins the hull, starting at the foot.

Hector, too, wasn't surprised that none of the usual places had been left untouched.  He had a keen eye for details, and could tell that the General did too.  That was also why, upon entering the cabin he would be sharing with Oriana, the first thing he noticed was the one thing that looked out of place - the lacy piece of underwear hanging off he corner of the desk.  He made no indication that he had seen it, however, preferring to be a little devious for once.

Letting Oriana begin the search, as she knew the compartments better than he did, Hector waited until she was looking away - until he was sure she was - then used one finger to deftly move the undergarment to the opposite corner of the desk, where he left it hanging almost as it had been before.  He then began slowly pacing the room, admiring it almost.

"Not a bad room.  Bed looks comfortable.  Comfortable chair for... contemplating things." Among other things, of course. "Now then, which corner?" he asked, moving to the bed to begin the search alongside her.

"Far corner, should be... ah, right there."

Oriana tosses a triumphant grin over her shoulder, having hooked something with her fingers in the crevice where the foot of the bed adjoined the wall, near the corner.  Closing her eyes in concentration, she slowly eases her fingertip around the edge of what feels like a narrow lid, once, then a second time.  Holding her breath, she presses down on one of the corners, eliciting a satisfying *click* as the lid pivots upwards.  "Pressure catch.  There should be one along that side, too.  Feel for two seams that are closer together than the hull panels.  No one would notice it without knowing to look for it."

She laughs, and reaches in to feel around in the now opened hole, coming up after a moment with a bottle of dingy glass.  She twists around and folds her legs beneath her, holding the bottle up for inspection.  "Oh hells, Sullustan gin," she winces, working the top loose to take a sniff of the contents.  This promptly elicits a wrinkling of her nose, and a hastily added, "Cheap Sullustan gin."

Nodding, Hector moved to the indicated corner and began tracing the lines of the wall, searching for the indicators she had pointed out.  He kept searching even as he heard Oriana reach success and then, eventually, he found it.  A moment later, he pulled the panel open, and slipped a hand inside.  He came out with a half full bottle of unmarked liquid.  Wasting little time, he popped it open and took a quick swig.  He showed no reaction to the contents, before nodding as he took a more comfortable position on the bed.

"Rum.  Corellian, I bet, but he didn't pay more than ten creds for it." He gave it one more taste, then laughed.  "Cheap Corellian rum and Sullustan gin... Marigg really is a cheap bastard.  I could chose better liquor blindfolded.  Still, its better than nothing." With that said, he offered her the bottle, if she preferred it over the gin.

As he hung inverted he had time to think, plenty of time to think. So Oriana and Hector...well it explained why he was 'right' for most of the argument. Why it had been so hard to even basically defend his case, but in the end it showed him something that the Masters had been saying for years.

Emotion clouded the judgement, it had made it harder for Oriana to see his side of the story. Whether he had been right or wrong, well that seemed moot.

Clouded judgement lead to mistakes, mistakes lead to more emotion and that was the slippery slope that lead to the darkside. He didn't think that Oriana was going to fall but he could see how it happened.

Small steps at a time, no mater how smart you were.

He would have to be on guard.

Thoughts like this filled his head as he listened out for an alert, but instead he got the familiar lurch into hyperspace. He waited for the call to come out, wanting to give them their privacy, he waited a little bit longer.

Nothing.

Frowning he locked the cannon and climbed out, the blur of stars indicating they were in hyperspace. Slipping out he made his way through, no noise from the cockpit, reaching out with the force he realised why.

Neither of them were there.

It didn't take any crevasse spanning leaps of logic to figure out where they were now. Duran coloured, well they had a right too, and he had no right think about it....after all hyperspace was special to pilots it made sense they'd want to....no better not.

Slipping into the cabin he slid into the co-pilot's chair. Looking out the front of the ship as he sunk into the seat. Well so many things he had never experienced as a Jedi, just what he wanted.

He chuckled quietly, well some things he'd never understood before made sense now. This is what a 'third wheel' was.

Spin, spin, spin.

Smiling he curled his legs up under him and closed his eyes. The scenes of infinity sliding away in front of him. A good enough place to meditate, he'd have a few hours it seemed.

Spin, spin, spin.

At least he didn't need his lightsaber.

Smile.

Focus.

"Yeah, well, what did you expect?" Oriana laughs, corking the bottle of gin and setting it between them, while gratefully accepting the rum.  "I'm not sure Garza would've taken this if she'd found it, and that," she nods at the bottle of gin, "I'm not sure is fit for human consumption."

"Beggars can't be choosers," she grins, taking a practiced swig from the bottle of rum, followed by the slightest momentary wince.  It wasn't that she was unused to liquor, even straight from the bottle, but even she had standards and this didn't meet them.  Despite this, she can't help but laugh, while offering the bottle back.  "Are we really this hard up?" she asks with a snicker that hastily fades, her eye having caught the desk behind him.  That's not where those were.   Her eyes slide smoothly over to Hector, but she can't quite keep them there, unable to resist glancing at the desk again.  I know they weren't on that cor....

Oriana freezes for a moment, and blinks at Hector, resisting the urge to plant her palm firmly against her forehead.  Dammit.

"Oh, its perfectly fit.  Though, most don't find it all that pleasant." Almost as if to spite those people, Hector took a swig of the gin.  It was quite foul, and burned all the way down, just as he had expected it to.  Nonetheless, he kept a perfectly straight face, even a grin, as though it was in fact quite pleasant.

Of course, when he tried to speak again, all that came out, at first, was a momentary groan, followed by an attempt to clear his throat. "Hrrm... Yes, ah... yeah, quite tasty, in fact.  Truly a fine gin if there ever was one," he said, before bursting into laughter.  He did keep one eye on Oriana, particularly as she froze in place, having finally noticed his little ploy.  He didn't react to it, although now he was laughing for two reasons.

"Apparently so," he said, accepting the brandy.  He offered the gin back, though doubted either of them would drink much of it. "I was considering having a talk with our Jedi friend over a drink, but even I'm not so cruel as to spring that on him..."

Oriana cautiously accepts said gin, unable to resist the challenge of taking a swig of her own.  Strangled laughter, mixed with a healthy dose of coughing, is her immediate response... followed by hastily sealing up the bottle and tossing it unceremoniously onto the floor.  "Fine gin my ass.  I wouldn't use that to clean a carburetor, and you know it," she manages to stammer out, once she's able to breathe enough to form words.  "Much less make friends over it."

She adjusts her position to a more comfortable one, steadfastly refusing to acknowledge what she now knows he's done.  "Speaking of which, he said something about apologizing to you, earlier..."  Oriana trails off into a bit of laughter, smirking up at Hector while waiting for another turn at the only drinkable alcohol.

Hector helped himself to a long swig of the brandy before handing it back.  He did enjoy the sight of Oriana trying to keep the gin down - immensely - as he knew just how difficult it was.  Still, he was impressed that she had succeeded. "I figured as much," he replied, with a sigh.  He shifted a bit, leaning with his back against the wall now.

"I don't want an apology from him.  Don't need one, in fact.  We might've disagreed, but I won't fault him for his opinions.  Might make fun of 'im for it, but I won't ask him to apologize for 'em.  I hope he doesn't want one from me.  Apologies aren't worth much to be honest... better to just move on and laugh about it later." Hector shrugged, then narrowed his eyes. "How long d'you think its gonna take me to get him to understand that?"

Oriana makes a move to stretch out while she listens, only to grumble and sit up once more.  "Oh, he wasn't going to apologize for his opinions," she chuckles, her fingers working on the buckles of her shoulder holster.  She twists around and carefully drops the entire apparatus onto the floor next to the bed, before stretching out on her left side with an extremely content sigh.  She props her head up in her hand, and chuckles, taking another swallow of the brandy, "I think you might be surprised, Hector." Oriana muses a bit, idly dangling the bottle from her fingertips, turning it this way and that.  "I think you two might even get along, now, once you actually sit down and talk some."

Hector gave her a curious look, while shifting to remove his own holster.  Her doing so had reminded him just how uncomfortable it was to have on while lying on a bed.  While at it, he removed his bandolier as well.  "Oh?  I certainly hope he doesn't plan to apologize for his sarcasm or insults.  I was an ass and deserved every one, I bet."  He didn't make a grab for the brandy, preferring to let her keep it until she was done.  Come to think of it, Hector wondered exactly what Oriana would be like when drunk - not that such an amount would be enough.  It would be a start though.  "Really?  You honestly think could stand to be around me?  He won't punch me or anything like that?"

"I would wager," Oriana glances down at the bottle, "A much better bottle of brandy than this one, that he's more worried you'll punch him."  She laughs, taking a swig, and then offering the bottle back.  "Hold that a sec."

"For reasons that I hope you'll forgive me for not dissuading.  He was so concerned he'd offended you by appearing to be interested in your woman that he forgot to give me the third degree about my Jedi training."  She's trying very, very hard to maintain a straight face as she says this, but coming desperately close to failing.  Eventually, she just gives up and dissolves into a fit of laughter.

"Worried that I'll punch him?  Would that I could, Ori.  He's a Jedi, he'll probably catch my hand and make me punch myself," Hector replied, accepting the bottle.  He didn't waste much time taking another drink, although he was curious as to why she wanted him to hold it.  He didn't have much time to wait, of course - laughing like that, she was like to spill the bottle.  Before getting a chance to reply, Hector too shared a laugh.

"My woman?  My my... that boy sure has himself confused.  As much as I would enjoy that situation, I honestly doubt you'd ever let someone consider you their woman." No, Oriana didn't seem the type to be possessed.  Whether or not she chose to stay with one person was one thing, but she was clearly a very different woman from the image Duran seemed to have.  "Now I'm curious about what you told him."

Still snickering, Oriana rolls onto her back once her hands are empty.  It should have been obvious, actually, in the process of disarming that she wasn't going to manage to extricate her tool belt and that veritable handcannon on her hip with just one hand, after all.  Thus, she pulls her leg up and releases the lower strap of her hip holster while answering, "I didn't tell him anything, besides pointing out that he didn't need to worry about protecting me from what he assumed would be your lecherous and less-than-honorable advances.  He made the rest of the mental leaps on his own." She shrugs from her prone position, turning her attention to peeling her belt and holster the rest of the way off of her person.

"I didn't exactly want to correct him.  I hope you don't mind."  She grins rather blatantly at that, before taking a moment to roll over and set the rest of her hardware on the floor, before resuming her original position, stretched out on her side.  Without asking, Oriana helps herself to the bottle of brandy once more, and takes a liberal swallow.

"You'd enjoy that, mm?"  It was a loaded question, she knew, but he'd left such a nice opening that she couldn't resist.

Since he was more sitting than lying down, Hector didn't have the same problems removing his holster, bandolier, and utility belt.  He hadn't considered Oriana would. "Jeez, he makes me out to sound like some old hound chasing around women wherever he goes." Hector put a bit of mock hurt into his tone.  "I thank you for defending my honor, if only by not adding to his suspicions I suppose." He smirked, relieving the bottle as she made the grab for it.

Hector had to take a moment to consider her loaded question, combined with her admission that she did not want to correct him.  Loaded question, indeed. "Well of course I would.  Since you didn't correct him, that could be taken several ways.  One might think you wanted to be my woman.  Wouldn't that be something." He made sure to give her an extra lecherous grin. "But I can see why you didn't.  You left it to me to explain, didn't you?  Ah well.  As I was saying... yes, I would enjoy it.  I bet you would too, although were that actually the case, I imagine it would only be true as far as what you let me tell my friends to keep up appearances and all."

"He's a Jedi, Hector.  They assume all intentions are lecherous, because they don't know proper lechery."  She grins and waggles her eyebrows in a teasing fashion, playing right along with a segue into mock indignation as well.  "And I'll have you know, I did point out that you wouldn't do the things he was concerned about."

Oriana smirks around the end of the bottle, working on another swig while listening to him work his way through a coherent answer to her loaded question.  Truth be told, the brandy was starting to get to her, or perhaps it was the company.  Either way, she was having more fun than she had for quite some time.

"Wouldn't that be something, indeed?" she teases, laughing in the face of his lecherous grin.  "Could be a lot of fun."

"Well, I'm glad you did.  Wouldn't want him thinking I acted in any way... dishonorable.  Devious though I may be, I try to keep to a certain code." Hector tipped his head toward her, figuring she knew the sort of code he was talking about.  Already, she'd seen hints of it in the way he acted and spoke.  It wasn't much of one, but at least he was honest.

"Aye, it could." He cast a look around the room, then back at the bed and finally at Oriana. "Course, if it were to be something at all, you'd have to get used to not putting half the bed between us."  He smirked.  He was quite happy to let her have the rest of the brandy.  If nothing else, he wanted to be a little less drunk than she at all times - and he wanted some room to maneuver once they got to Port Nowhere.  Now though, it was his turn for a loaded question - and to push the boundaries, of course. "If it were something, how would that go?"

Oriana catches the edge of her lower lip in her teeth, and grins, glancing around the empty space on the bed as well.  Lifting an eyebrow at the conclusion of her appraisal, she fixes her attention on Hector, her grin broadening more than a little.  "Whose fault is that? I was up here first, after all."

She pauses in the act of raising the bottle to her lips again, to take stock of the remaining volume.  A thoughtful noise escapes her, and she elects to cap the bottle and save the rest for later.

"How would that go?" she muses, studying him while thinking of her answer.  Several possible interpretations of answers to the question flit through her head, ranging from the obvious physical explanation of how things work, to the philosophical vagaries of attraction, to the subtle nuances of how to actually manage such things while surrounded by a crew.  In the end, though, she opts for the simplest and most truthful answer, delivered with a brilliant smile.

"First, you ask, then I say yes."

Hector dipped his head, acknowledging her assessment.  "You are correct at that.  My mistake.  It shall not happen again," he replied, watching her for a moment.  It seemed he was doing just about what she was; calculating the situation, and wondering if what he was thinking about was, in fact, a good idea.  Well, Oriana might've been thinking that.  Hector couldn't be sure, he was too busy thinking about how it might go.

Of course, with an ultimatum with the one she gave him a moment later, Hector couldn't just blurt out an answer.  Moving his hands up behind his head, he appraised her once more while thinking on the best possible way to continue.  It wasn't about just asking after all - it was never that easy.  You had to ask just right.

And all of a sudden, Hector knew exactly how to do it.

With a sudden movement, he stood, and swiftly walked over to Oriana's side of the bed.  Then, he dropped down to one knee and adopted possibly the most sincere expression Oriana would have seen on him yet.  "Oriana, will you marry me?" A few heartbeats passed, before a look of confusion came over him. "Wait a moment, that's not the right one... hang on a moment." He looked down, and when he came back to meet her eyes, he was wearing his typical smuggler smile.  "How'd you like to make a mistake together?"

Oriana half-rolls her eyes and laughs, favoring Hector with a bright, genuine smile.  Instead of answering, though, she silently scoots back from the edge of the bed to make more room, all the while keeping her eyes on his.

Could she answer him with something witty and eloquent? At the moment, she had to admit, probably not.  She was touched, she was intrigued, she was hooked.  She knew he knew it, too.  He'd said as much, not a few hours past.  She couldn't deny it if she tried.

And so, Oriana says nothing, she merely lifts her hand and beckons him with a smile and a crooked finger.

AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER.

For an hour.  X2's warning beeps herald your approach to the coordinates.  With no gravity well to bring you out of hyperspace, someone needs to do it manually.

[Private to Oriana Cy'Kast: As promised]
Stirring from his trance he looked at the droid for awhile wondering what the hell it wanted.

Frowning at the beep he reached out and touched Oriana's mind. He wasn't sure what to think about where they had been so long but he figured it would be safe by now...plus he didn't know what he had to do to this thing to get it to stop beeping. Normally he was the one in the cabin, not sitting in the co-pilot chair.
[Private to Oriana Cy'Kast: Careful probing followed by,"Droid beeping...."]

There had been several things pounding in Oriana's skull for the past hour or so, most of them borne of Kai Marigg's horrible taste in alcohol.  Half-asleep and only vaguely aware of X2's beeping, somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she mumbles somewhat incoherently, "What?"  Her query is muffled, both by sleep and her reflexive attempt to drown out the intrusion by tucking her face more snugly into the warm body next to her.

It's only then, of course, that it dawns on her that she's not imagining things.  Oriana blinks open her eyes, barely lifting her head in the process, and takes a moment to register reality versus a very bizarre dream involving drunken droids and beeping Jedi.

[Private to Duran: Warmth, and contentment, and exhaustion, and...sudden recognition.  "What?"]

"Skyfisher = approaching coordinates."  The message scrawls up onto the displays in the cockpit.

As was usual for a situation where there was only a short time allowed to sleep, Hector was only half asleep.  He was resting, but he was awake enough to be able to rise when needed.  Of course, that didn't mean he wanted to rise at the moment.  He figured they were nearing their destination - Oriana perking her head up for a moment basically confirmed it.  How else would their other crewmate in the cockpit.

With a light sigh, he opened his eyes to look over the situation and help decide what he wanted to do.  Unfortunately, it didn't help.  Even so, he knew what he needed to do.  So, regretfully, he lifted his arm from around Oriana, and slowly slid over tot he side of the bed, aiming to disturb her as little as possible.  If successful, he wouldn't waste much time finding his clothes and dressing himself.

Duran shook his head, he really didn't need that in there, but he looked down at the beeping creature and frowned he had to try again. Brushing minds with her again he tried to ignore the feelings of contentment emanating from her.[Private to Oriana Cy'Kast: A lightly frustrated and slightly embarrassed,"Droid beeping, Now!"]

Breathing deeply he hooked his ear piece behind his ear and looked at the Droid,"They aren't coming, buddy, tell me. What do I need to do to get this thing out of hyperspace....can't be that hard with your help?" This would be fine, he could manage, what were they doing in there? Surely not still...

His face lit up a little as he looked at the Droid.

"Query? = time spent on ships | Action requested = disengage hyperdrive transition by asserting motor control on the lever."

"Oh, I've spent lots of time on ships...." Just not in the cockpit. Looking at the dazzling array of levers to choose from he pointed at the largest one then smiled at the Droid,"That one?"

There is a pause from the droid, and then it whistles softly, looking back down the hall that leads up to the cockpit and spinning all the way back around to look at Duran.  "X2's knowledge = insufficient also."

Duran looked a little panicked for a moment, that was not the answer he had been looking for. Licking his lips he looked at the flashing lights and beeping,"Can't you ask the ship....maybe I should go fetch one of them..."

That idea died faster than a hyperspace jump into a planet. There was no way he was going in there, what was going on. Looking at the droid again he said,"Maybe I should just guess, the force will guide me...."

Focusing a moment he said,"Here goes, Droid."
[Private to Hector Terrachova; Oriana Cy'Kast: Enter one of you :D Please!]

Oriana grumbles and pushes up to a sitting position, pressing one hand to her forehead.  "For the love of a Hutt, we have got to teach him to use the intercom."

She could very easily snuggle back down into the pillows and sleep, but the Jedi's voice in her head was just simply not going to allow that.  Talk about an alarm she could do without.  Shaking her head slightly to clear it, she pries her hand from her face.  "Duran's panicking in the cockpit.  The hyperspace warning's going off, I bet," she says, a trace of amusement invading her otherwise calm tone.  She knew there was time, X2 never waited until the last minute.  The little droid was more paranoid than any living being she'd ever flown with.

Noting that Hector's already in the process of dressing, Oriana flops back down rather dramatically, and rolls over into the vacated warm spot by her side.  Burying her face in the pillow, she mumbles, "Five more minutes."  It wouldn't take both of them to bring the Skyfisher out, after all.

Hector simply chuckled.  He didn't worry much; the hyperspace warning was set for a 5 minute warning anyway, so he had time to get dressed and get to the cockpit.  He did find it amusing that Duran was panicking though - hadn't he said something about being competent in the cockpit?  Or was that one of the other ones?  Not that it mattered.

With pants on, he started buttoning up his shirt and turned back to Oriana. "All right," he replied, with a nod.  "Five minutes.  But, if you haven't been to Port Nowhere before, you're gonna wanna see it coming in.  Don't take too long." With his clothes now on and done up, Hector grabbed his utility belt, bandolier, and holster, and headed out the door.  He did pause for a moment at the threshold, to take one last look at Oriana on the bed.  Then, he was gone.

"Oriana says to use the intercom next time," he mused, stepping into the cockpit while buckling up his pistol's holster.  "We have a couple minutes still, no need to worry." With a grin, Hector wasted little time in sliding into the Captain's chair.

Duran looked up when Hector walked in, a guilty look on his face as he unwrapped his fingers from around the largest lever in the assembly, his comment made Duran blush furiously, this man had just been...no, focus, focus. What was with him? He had never had this problem before!

It was just because of his initial mess up, his misunderstanding, misinterpretation...whatever. Shaking his head he said,"I don't know which button is the intercom....." It had never occurred to him to use the intercom, the droid probably knew which one that was.

Sitting back in the chair he looked at the instrument,"Perhaps you should show me for....well.." Yes they would do it again, it was normal, what was wrong with him? "For next time?"

He watched Hector slide in Oriana's words coming back into his head Fast and Dangerous Really? Looked a bit like an overdressed pimp with that beard but what did he know? Clearly nothing.

For a moment he looked over, expecting Oriana and he asked,"Do I need to man the Guns? Where are we going?" He licked his lips, well he might as well get the apology out to the smuggler, maybe just a bit longer.

Looking up, Hector pointed at the console off to Duran's right. "That one there's the intercom," he stated, before going back to his own controls, which be was in the process of bringing back online.  It didn't take very long though.

"There's no need to get on the guns.  Probably a bad idea to do so... guys at Port Nowhere can be a bit paranoid, and they have us woefully outgunned."  He smirked, then leaned back a bit, waiting for just the right time. "All right then.  See that set of levers on the center console there?  Pull 'em back towards you, whenever you like.  We're close enough, and Port Nowhere is never at the exact coordinates."

Duran looked at Hector for a long moment, the man was telling him to touch the ship, the ship he was sure that he had been rather possessive about before. Looking at him he reached out for the lever,"Did Oriana talk to you?"

Had to be the reason he was being civil, Duran didn't think he liked it,"You're normally an ass, is this going to last long?" He reached out and pulled the lever back slowly, a smile creeping onto his face, she had hinted he should give the Smuggler his own medicine.

He opened his mouth, a comment about him sending Oriana to talk to him often when he remembered what might very well be the real reason for the Hector's good mood. His mouth snapped shut and then re-engaged, without thought, he said,"Real quick, because I'm not good at this, I'm not a threat....unless you hurt her....got it?"

Beepy beep whistle beep!

[Private to group Binary: "X2's recommendation = worry about Oriana hurting Hector."]

"Oh, there was talking," Hector replied with a smirk.  He figured he knew what Duran was talking about though.  Either way, it didn't matter much.  For him, the issue had passed.  Mostly.

"You haven't known me long enough.  I'm an ass when I feel people deserve it, that's all." He finished what he was doing, then swung the chair around to face Duran.  "I don't hurt women.  Not unless they hurt me first.  In a menacing way, that is.  You know how it is." He paused for a moment, looking at Duran.  "Well, maybe you don't.  But I didn't hurt her, and have no plans to."

"Hey, that's not nice little guy."

Oriana's teasing voice sneaks up behind them both, failing to have been advertised by the usual sound of her boots on the corridor flooring for a very good reason - socks don't make noise on metal.  In fact, she looks like she's come straight to the cockpit with very little pause at all beyond obviously taking the time to find a clean shirt: her unlaced boots dangle from her fingers, and both of her blaster holsters and their associated harnesses are draped over her shoulder.  Even her hair is loose, haphazardly held back by the glasses perched atop her head.  Despite this, she manages to look wide awake and in an amazingly good mood.

"What?" she asks in the pause after Hector finishes speaking, grinning as she drops all her stuff into the seat behind Duran.  "You told me not to miss it... and that's good to know."  Oriana chuckles, and takes up a similar position to earlier, resting both of her hands atop the center console and lazily leaning upon it.

Duran had been about to say something when Oriana walked in, he turned at her words and there she was still dressing. His face flared again but he faced front, looking out the window.

Still he smiled, at least most of the baggage had been sorted out. He looked up at Oriana, and chuckled,"Now tell him to stop being nice to me, it makes me uncomfortable."

Shaking his head he looked at Hector,"Tell me about Port Nowhere, sounds like your sort of place. I suspect I'm not going to like it."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:01, Tue 12 June 2012.

Hector glanced back at the sound of Oriana's voice and smiled.  "That's a good look for you," he commented, before looking back to Duran.  He couldn't help but grin at his 'complaint'.  There was something fun about making people uncomfortable, but he had never understood why.

"Oh, Port Nowhere's great.  A wretched hive of scum and villainy.  Its a roving port of call basically, where you can fuel up, buy less than legal weapons, make repairs, and so on.  Used to be an old Hutt dreadnaught.  Smugglers, Bounty Hunters, Assassins, drug dealers, and all manner of nasty folk frequent the place."  He reached across and clapped Duran on the shoulder. "You're gonna love it.  Now, one of you two bring us outta hyperspace."

Oriana grins, silently thanking Hector for the compliment with a wink.  She'd have to tease him later about whether he meant barefoot, with her hair down, or just only recently dressed.  The corners of her mouth twitch slightly as she fights the urge to snicker at the thought.  Shifting a little, she braces her hands a bit more firmly against the center console, waiting for the inevitable drop out of hyperspace.

"Go ahead, Duran."

Duran frowned,"All this niceness, well I'm not going to be nice." HE looked to see which lever Hector meant this time and eased it forward nice and slow. At least this way he could keep his attention on the controls on not on the banter, winks and feelings going on. At this rate he was going to close himself off to the force, at least till all the happiness was gone.

He chuckled to himself, what a stupid thought, opening himself out he let their feelings flood him. This was natural, why did he keep making it such a big thing,"Port Nowhere, here we come."

"A wretched hive of scum and villainy, huh?" Oriana muses aloud, tossing a grin in Hector's directon.  "Sounds like fun."

Finally free to move again, once the Skyfisher's dropped out of hyperspace, she plucks her boots up and sets about putting them on.  Propping first one foot, and then the other, in the seat of the chair behind Hector, she keeps an eye on the vast space outside the transparisteel windows while lacing and buckling her boots, watching for the first signs of Port Nowhere.

This done, she wastes little time separating the straps of her tool belt and shoulder harness, and securing them to her person.  Her fingers dance over the straps and buckles by rote, fastening everything into its proper place seemingly by feel alone.  Continuing what is obviously a practiced routine, she reflexively lifts her hands and reaches for her hair to twist it up, only to pause and pull them away, deliberately hooking one thumb in her belt to keep from doing it again.

The other hand she drapes over the top of Hector's chair, as she moves up to stand between the seats to watch their arrival.

The Skyfisher cruises through the emptiness away from their exit from hyperspace.  Nothing but the distant stars and nearby blackness seems to be around.  After a few seconds though, you see an object on the sensors.  Something large.

Immediately after, the Skyfisher is hailed.  "Unknown vessel, state your business."  Hector handles the introductions readily, and after a few back-and-forths you're granted clearance to dock.

A brown blot becomes visible in the distance, and as you get closer you can begin to make out the features of the former dreadnaught.  The wiki of course does not describe the ship well, so forgive how brief this is, please!  Closing the distance, you can see holographic billboards advertising casinos in Huttese, and the upcoming docking area is quite expansive.  Scanners indicate the station's length is approximately 800 meters.

You've been given clearance to bay fourteen, and that is where Hector parks the ship.  It looks like you're sharing the port with a much smaller fighter-sized vessel.  They're probably paying premium for taking up so much space with such a small craft.  A number of Ugnaughts scurry about below, setting things up to get the ship topped off on fuel.

Duran watched as the huge ship filled the window and shook his head, waiting till Hector was finished talking before saying,"And that monster is filled with scum and villainy?" Shaking his head he said,"Well, I hope you guys have good aim, I'd hate for you to shoot me and my shiny lightsaber instead of whoever tries to mug me...you know there's going to be someone in there drunk, stupid or crazy enough to want to try and prove they can take on a Jedi.....crap."

He sat back and frowned,"Well, I can get rid of the robes, do either of you have a spare blaster I can carry. I can put the lightsaber in one of the pockets in my vest....then I won't scream Jedi at least." He ponders this, listening for any advice from the scoundrels before they landed.

Once they were in the massive den of iniquity, he could almost here his masters voice, he looked at Hector,"You two really think this is a good idea? Maybe I should just stay and watch the ship...I don't want to get in your way."
[Private to Hector Terrachova; Oriana Cy'Kast: Under no circumstances are you allowed to leave Duran on the ship....:D]

Once they had clearing, Hector was free to glance over to Duran, who seemed to be having a great number of second thoughts.  "Whoever said there would be trouble here?  Trust me, people come here to lay low for a while.  Its neutral ground, so to speak - or at least, most try to keep it that way.  Probably a little to do with a fear of mutually assured destruction, but still."  He shook his head.

"You don't have to change anything if you don't want.  Most people at Port Nowhere keep to themselves.  Either they've come to relax, come to hide, or come for refuge... nobody really cares who you are.  Don't start trouble, and you won't find trouble."  Hector looked back to the approaching ship. "Usually."

With a light chuckle, he then focused on bringing the ship into their designated docking bay.  He spun it around once inside, so the ramp would be facing the entrance to the rest of the ship, and touched it down lightly on the deck.

"Jedi go into cantinas all the time, Duran.  Just think of this as one really big flying cantina, if that helps.  Besides, it's not like we're going to leave you alone to get rolled by the locals."  Oriana offers the Jedi her most reassuring smile, despite the fact that she's obviously trying not to snicker at that last bit.

"Speaking of getting rolled by the locals," she glances down at Hector once the ship's touched down.  "We should probably contact Garza before we sample the bar stock.  She's not gonna like what we have to say, and I'm pretty sure she'll like it a lot less if we're not sober for the telling."  Oriana's tone is one of resignation.  Clearly, she doesn't want to have to contact the general at all, but it's going to be hours before they can leave again anyway, even if the general does attempt to order them right around.

...and she's never seen bureaucracy work that fast. Ever.

She grins, "And by 'we', I mean 'you'."

After shutting down and locking up the systems, Hector swung around to view the two in the cockpit.  "The great thing about being Captain is the ability to delegate.  Duran, you're going to send the General a message telling her about the Sith invasion fleet, and all that jazz about what you found at the manor.  Don't tell her where we went, although you can tell her it was on Seely's orders.  Send a message, don't get her on a holocall.  No need to talk live right now, and if she wants to get back to us, we do take messages."

With a grin, he rose from his Captain's chair. "That shouldn't take but a few minutes.  When you're set, I'll show you both around a bit.  Its a nice place, if you don't mind dark, rusted starship interiors."

Oriana laughs and half-rolls her eyes, "Can't blame a girl for trying.  I wanted to see you try to sweet-talk the iron lady again."  She flashes her trademark grin, then and only then electing to move out of Hector's way.  Pivoting on her heel, she meanders almost lazily down the central corridor towards the engine bay.

Duran raised an eyebrow at Hector,"You sure? I don't want to cause any trouble..well at least let me lose the robe. Then it's not obvious from a mile away." He sighed,"And I don't start trouble, it tends to find me, then I have to defend myself."

He looked at Oriana carefully as she mentioned not leaving him alone. He wasn't sure that would be true, they would get a couple of drinks in them and then they'd want to share their feelings....and then he'd be alone....again. His face flared slightly at the thought but Oriana's next suggestion helped him forget that.

His mouth quirked at the thought of Hector speaking to the General, the woman wouldn't buy what he said no matter what, the thought of him speaking to her drunk had him almost laughing, well it would have if it wouldn't result in his ship being blown up and a bounty being put on Hector.

He smiled at Hector,"I was going to volunteer anyway. Somehow I think the mistrust you were so worried about will be carried over to the Genera...and perhaps a message is better. Gives you two more time to drink...."

Seely would have been the best person to send the message but hey. He watched as the two of them got up and started to walk off. What? Again? Shaking his head he said,"Where is the recorder? Or can the Droid help me?"

[Private to Hector Terrachova; Oriana Cy'Kast: Oh no, not the Engine room! I have this image of the Miranda love scene in ME2 playing out....NOOOOOO!]

Hector shrugged.  "Up to you what you wanna wear, but its not necessary.  Though, when people say that trouble tends to find them, more often than not, they end up causing it.  Maybe not on purpose, but the fault is theirs.  Just watch where you step and you'll be fine." Stepping to the threshold of the cockpit, he gestured to the comm room.

"You can do the message in there.  The droid should be able to help you out, its not too difficult.  When you're set to go, I'll see yo by the ramp."  With a nod, Hector strolled out, though not all that quickly.  He wasn't about to abandon the Jedi here, not after an admission that trouble followed him.  Plus, it wasn't in his plan to begin with.

Meanwhile, in the engine bay, Oriana runs her hands down two rows of heavy levers, four above four, systematically yanking the top four down, and then the bottom four up.  Each lever resists her tugging briefly, before sliding into where she wants it with a solid *thunk* and a heavy *click*, locking the lever into its new position.  On the exterior of the Skyfisher, a section of reinforced plating surrounding the twin engines slides open in response to the shift of each individual lever, two above and two below, respectively.  "Cool off, baby.  I'll take care of the rest later," she murmurs to the ship on her way out, patting the doorjamb with her hand, and intentionally leaving the engine bay doors open behind her.

This done, she meanders through the starboard cargo bay, and out onto the boarding ramp, making sure that the airlock doors secure once she's through.  There, she hooks her thumbs in her belt and leans up against the wall with her eyes closed, waiting for the others.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:42, Thu 14 June 2012.

Duran smiled,"My master used to say that I interfere, although he thought it was a good thing. Still I'll keep to myself as much as I can, you know already I feel I have to protect people....can't really help myself."

Duran moved to the communication room, getting the droid to follow. Settling down he followed the instructions from the droid to get a message sent to the General.
[Private to GM:
General,

Arriving at the system you sent us too we were immediatly surrounded by a fleet of Sith War ships. They proceeded to attack the planet, we discovered later that they had planted Sith sympathisers amongst the rulers of the planet, so there was little to no effective resistance. We managed to evade and land close to the site Master Orth identified. It is in fact not a manor but a hidden munitions factory. There we were contacted by a Sith Lord who claimed to have contacted Master Orth through the force, Darth Imperius, she claimed she wanted us to collect her daughter and the other force sensitives on the planet, the reason she had 'sent' for us.

She also informed us of an imminent attack by two other Sith Force Users, a master and apprentice, but indicated that in fact the apprentice was the problem and the Master would side with us once we defeated the apprentice. We made our way back to the surface and after fighting and defeating the two Sith and a Sith Interceptor some of us, the Pilot, the Engineer and I, were ordered to get a message out to you to inform you of these developments.

We escaped the planet and are sending you the details. What are your further orders?

May the Force be with you.

Duran]

With that done he made his way to Shanda's bunk chucking his robe on the bed and making his way through to the exit. He was dressed in an all black suit that clung to his body, no loose folds to get caught while fighting. His mesh vest contained a number of electronic devices and bits of survival gear and he looked like some kind of military commando or bounty hunter rather than a Jedi, although his lightsaber hung at his hip.

The boots he wore were more visible and were large and clunky, and seemed to have something built into the heels as he made his way to the door. Smiling at Oriana he said,"Reporting for duty, Ma'am..."

"You know, the Jedi robes would've been a lot more... incognito, if that's what you were going for," Hector noted from further down the ramp. "You do know we're not looking for a fight, right?"  He smirked, then with a shrug, gestured for him to head down the ramp.  "Whatever.  Come on, we should make the most out of our time here.  I can't imagine we'll spend more than a few hours, and there's a couple places I want to visit before we go.  First stop though, will be the cantina.  They've got an impressive selection - better than any planetary one, that much is for sure."

Oriana rolls her eyes and snorts, pushing herself off the wall with a graceful economy of motion.  "Stop making me feel old... Jedi," she retorts, smirking at Duran in such a fashion as to leave no doubt that she's intentionally paying him back for calling her 'ma'am'.  Again.

She falls in with the men on the way down the ramp, positioning herself to Hector's left in a subtle motion borne of habit, more than anything else.

"A couple of places, mm?"

Duran smiled at Hector's comments,"You have no idea how hard it is not to slash up those stupid robes when we fight. It's supposed to give us a common appearance or something but I don't really like them. Plus if we're going to misbehave I'm not doing it in the orders robes. Don't want to ruin their reputation."

He looked at Oriana and chuckled,"Oh no, Ma'am, you aren't old. Hector is, I think I saw a gray hair earlier...although I think there are more now. I wonder why?" He flushed a little, that was clearly an attempted crack at their relationship, he thought it was pretty good too....

He sighed as they mentioned a couple of places,"I suppose now is a good time to tell you I didn't bring any money."

The group is in the midst of discussing their upcoming location, heading to a turbolift that leads to one of the upper levels.  However, as the button requesting a lift is pressed, the doors immediately slide open, as a lift is just arriving.  Its lone passenger is an older human woman, with red hair that has faded a bit to gray with age.  Her dark green eyes still hold a lot of spark, and she's a bit shorter than Hector.  Noting a number of other things, like the shape of her nose and how her mouth is almost always ready curve into a grin, the woman bears stark resemblance to your pilot.  Her eyes light up even more as she looks upon the group.

She's wearing a plain, form-fitting white tank top with dark brown slacks, and a normal pair of laced boots.  She's got a heavy blaster at her hip and wears a utility belt at her waist.  She's slender, but bears many of the marks of age, as her skin is not nearly as smooth as it otherwise would be, crow's feet marr the edges of her eyes, etc.  She moves with a spry grace that belies that age, though, and her skin is of a darker pigment, indicating some time spent in sunlight.

"Hector, you chump!  Why don't you call once in a while?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:08, Thu 14 June 2012.

My mother was a smuggler...

Hector's words come back to Oriana after a brief moment of confusion, during which she tugs her glasses down a bit on her nose to peer at the woman over their rims.  As she takes note of the obvious physical similarities, the corners of her mouth threaten to twitch into a grin, and she swivels her head around to glance up at Hector, one eyebrow lifted in a questioning fashion.

As they headed for the turbolift, Hector heard a voice straight out of the past.  A voice he hadn't heard in... hell, it had to be more than 15 years.  A voice that hadn't changed in that same amount of time.  His face a picture of shock, Hector froze midstep as a woman appeared in the lift before them.  She was older than he remembered, although the years had clearly been good to her.  To his credit, Hector managed to compose himself fairly quickly.

"And get my ear nagged off?  No thanks..." he said, attempting a small grin, despite his current state of shock.  "So... you're here..."

Duran could only smile, apparently smuggling, and being 'charmingly' blunt ran in the family. He looked at Hector, Oriana and then the woman and cleared his throat,"Greetings, Ms. Terrachova is it? I'm Duran....Hector's friend.."

He glanced over at Oriana,"And this is Oriana, the ships engineer. A pleasure to meet you." If Hector wasn't going to introduce them, Duran was sure going to mind his manners.

As he finished he smiled, well I suppose this is what his master would call interfering, again.

Walking right over to Hector, the woman puts her hands on his upper arms and seems to give his face a closer inspection.  She finishes this with a big toothy grin and a clapping of his arms in the same place before bringing them back to her own hips.  There's a flash of motherly love there as she says, "By the stars, it is you, my own son.  Had to come see for myself.  Yep, it's me.  I run this place, you know!"  She winks once, still smiling.

"And who are these two?  What happened to Risha?  She was a sweet girl," she says, looking at Ori before moving on to Duran.  "And this handsome young thing...your weathervane still pointing the same way there, young man?  Looks like one of the dancers I invited up to my room the other night.  Especially in that outfit!"  She chuckles then, really more of a brief cackle.

Oriana pinches the bridge of her nose between two fingers for a moment, hiding a wince.  So much for wondering how Hector would have chosen to introduce them to his mother.  The uncomfortable moment passes quickly, though, fading into Oriana fighting hard to keep from busting out laughing.

She grins and pushes her glasses up atop her head to get a better look at the firecracker that was apparently Mama Terrachova, taking a moment to glance up at Hector and silently mouth, 'Risha?', while trying not to laugh in the wake of the woman's comments regarding Duran.

Oriana fails miserably, however, and is unable to resist laughing out loud.

"You run this place?" Hector blinked.  He hadn't even known that one person alone an Port Nowhere.  That probably would've been a good thing to know, although knowing it was his mother would've been nice as well.  Still unable to conceal his shock, he glanced to Oriana at the mention of Risha.

"Risha went her own way once we completed the job.  She was a client and... how the hell do you even know her name?"  Shaking his head, Hector gestured to the two of his companions in turn, having not heard - or more likely, completely ignored - Duran's introductions.  It did seem as though he had an ingrained defense mechanism as well - he didn't even flinch at his mother's comments regarding Duran.  "Oriana Cy'Kast, Engineer, and Duran, Jedi Padawan."  He didn't feel very worried about being honest here - he knew his mother well.  Not only was she trustworthy, but she would probably be able to figure all of that out on her own one way or another.  Plus, Duran wasn't very good at hiding his true profession.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:26, Thu 14 June 2012.

She turns her eyebrows down in an exaggerated pout, saying, "Oh, he had to be a Jedi."  Turning away, she flips a hand in the air dismissively, moving away from the group a ways before turning to face you again, her grin back.  "Well you don't call, Hector, I have to find these things out on my own!  I have contacts.  Last I heard, you'd gotten yourself locked up in a Republic cell, soiling the Terrachova name!  Glad to see you've gotten yourself out though, and in-"  She seems about to blow past the three of you to have a look at the ship when she notices the obvious.  "Hector?" she asks, her grinning face contorted into a questioning glare, "Where's my ship?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:39, Thu 14 June 2012.

Oriana stifles her laughter behind her hand, leaning out slightly to smile and incline her head politely, "Nice to meet you."  She doubted that Hector's mother had even heard her, really, so engrossed was the older woman in admiring Duran in that ridiculous skintight suit.  Ah well, there really was no accounting for taste.  Taking note of the choice of sidearm she carried, Oriana hastily amended that thought with ...in men.

She was just about to make a comment about understanding where Hector got his brazen nature, when his mother noticed the Skyfisher sitting behind them at the dock.  She tenses a bit at the question - or perhaps more at the woman's glare, turning her shoulder towards her by an almost imperceptible degree.

Hector was about to get defensive about being thrown in a cell, when the subject of the ship came up.  That was something he hadn't thought about - of course his mother would bring that up.  His ship had originally been her ship, after all, and he knew she loved it as much as he did.

"Err... sitting in a Republic impound lot?" he said, using a hand to rub the back of his neck. "She's perfectly all right, I assure you.  Just... temporarily indisposed..."

'Ms. Terrachova' lets out a hissing sigh, leaning over and bracing her head against the thumb and index finger of her hand.  "They're going to get their grubby mitts on it, probably tear out all the good stuff..."

She does a very short pace in one direction and back in the opposite direction.  She seems to get over it, letting out another sigh, as though letting her worries wash away.  "Well so long as you're all right I suppose.  Not much of a ship without its pilot, right?" she asks, shrugging.  "So what in a Hutt's dark side are you doing here?"

She listens for Hector's response, while extending a hand in greeting to Oriana and Duran in turn.  "Eve Terrachova, pleasure to make your acquaintance," she says quickly, her grin back on her face.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:36, Thu 14 June 2012.

For a moment, Oriana's attention flickers up to Hector, thoroughly amused by his sheepish response.  She hadn't thought about that ship being her ship that Hector had grown up on.  No wonder he'd planted that blaster bolt between Marigg's eyes.  This surprise encounter was proving to be most educational.

"Ori."  Oriana chuckles, reaching out to clasp Eve's hand in her own sturdy grip.  "Don't worry.  If they tear it all out, that just gives me an excuse to put something better in.  Course, it's not like I've got him flying some secondhand refurb hunk of junk out of a Nar Shaddaa repo yard in the meantime, either."   A cocky grin creeps across Oriana's face, and she stands up a little bit straighter, meeting the elder Terrachova eye for eye.  She likes this woman already.

"Drinking, hopefully, and making some repairs."

Duran's face changed colour several times as he tried to keep up with the outrageous woman that was Hector's mother. The had a lot in common it seemed.

First red, and gasping as she insinuated that he and Hector might be...well you know, and then pale as the much older woman declared that she had dancers, plural no less, like him in her bed the other night. Red again as her mock disappointment made it clear it had mostly been a joke, and that she was in fact very well informed.

Shaking his head he struggled for words as she spoke about her ship. He had kind of recovered his equilibrium by the time she addressed him, although what she had said about the ship and Risha had not gone past him it was way back in the part of his brain not trying to cope with her brazen attitude, he should have known that anyone with such a resemblance to Hector would have a personality to match.

When she offered her hand he shook it but couldn't quite meet her eyes, although he glanced at Ori briefly and sighed,"I suspect that it might be better to do it in the other order, Ori, but you know best...as always." There was just a touch of his old sarcasm on the last bit as he came to realise that while he was with these two it was likely he would never be fully in control of his reactions.

All things considered, Hector was enjoying this reunion with his mother, if only for the fact it was making Duran visibly uncomfortable.  He knew it was cruel, but seeing Jedi in such positions was highly amusing to him.  That said, he couldn't blame Duran; his mother really was something else.

"Don't worry, I'll get the ship back.  One way or another."  He nodded to the others as they introduced themselves, and at Oriana's assessment of their purpose here.  "Ori has the right of it.  We're basically here for repairs and resupply - you see, the ship is terribly understocked on fine liquor, and I intend to rectify that.  Plus, wouldn't hurt to relax a bit before jumping back into the fire."

Oriana leans back and flashes a grin past Hector, quietly answering Duran.  "She's hot, Duran.  We just came off a hyperjump.  I cant' fix her 'till she cools, and if we've got time to kill..."  She shrugs and leaves the rest unspoken, as it goes without saying that if they've got time to kill, they may as well have some fun.  It might not be the Jedi way, but it was definitely their way.  For all she knew, the Sith could blow them up on the way back into the planet tomorrow - not that she was going to point that out to the Jedi.  She'd be damned if she wasn't going to have a good time tonight.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:19, Fri 15 June 2012.

Duran's face coloured, for a moment she thought she was talking about Hector's mom and he couldn't help but glance at the woman for a moment. A very small, unknown part of him, agreed and understood, for a short moment, what Oriana saw in Hector.

By then Duran had realised that she was in fact not talking about the older woman, and closed his mouth with an audible snap,"Ahhh...yes, of course. I should have thought about that."

Of course, pilots and engineers always talked about ships as 'she' he should have known that. He ran a hand over his face and reflected that he had never been so rattled so many times in one day before.

Looking over at Hector he flushed again,"Where are we going first?"

"You've come to the right place!" she exclaims, arms and hands out in the air.  "So you've come in for repairs, here, and have some fire-jumping to do.  My curiosity's piqued!  But if you've got time, then I've got time.  Let's walk," she says, leading the way back to the lift.  "Oh and fuel's on me.  I've cleared you.  Consider it a late birthday present.  Or early.  When the hell where you born?"

It was certainly nice to have a guide, that was for sure - even if it was his mother. Still, Hector could think of worse company to have.  Plus, he always ended up getting lost around Port Nowhere; maybe Eve would know the place better. "That's quite generous of you, but... You cleared us?  What, do you run the place or something?" He asked it with a partial laugh, intending it to be a joke, although it did make him think a bit; did any one person run Port Nowhere?  It had to have a Captain, as it was still technically a ship, right?

Never one to turn down a freebie when it came to fuel, the generous offer brings an easy smile to Oriana's face.  That took care of one of their problems already, neatly leaving the majority of their cred flow for... restocking.  What were the odds of running into his mother here? she mused, watching the elder woman start to walk away.  Would my mother have aged so well, and be so glad to see me?  It's been twenty-five years, would I even recognize her if I did?  A faint flicker of sadness flits across Oriana's face, only to be quickly pushed away behind a soft chuckle and a smile.  Clearly, she was just going to have to vicariously enjoy the presence of Hector's mother, instead.

As she moves out, she brushes past Hector, taking a moment to rest her hand on his arm in the process.  She gives him a light squeeze and whispers, "Relax."  Then, with a flash of a smile, she slips the rest of the way past and moves to catch up with Eve, her usual confident stride falling easily into step alongside the older woman.  She had a good half-dozen questions that immediately sprang to mind, but she'd wait until later to ask them.

Eve responds to Hector's query with, "Maybe," and a sly wink.

The lift is quick, and ascends the height of the docking bay in no time, with the Skyfisher getting smaller in your view until visibility is blocked by the bay's ceiling.  On the other side of the lift, panes of glass separate you from the casino floors with bright neon lights and images flashing all over the place.  Aside from those lights, to include holographic projections of trees, it's all quite brown, much like the Hutts themselves.

The lift stops at a walkway which looks out over the casino expanse.  Apparently they don't stop at the "ground" level, or Eve wanted the lot of you up here.  Up ahead there's a crosswalk with a number of individuals heading to their own personal destinations.

Walking ahead of you a bit, Eve extends a hand out over the edge of the walkway, her other hand gripping a handrail.  "Welcome to the drag.  Sabacc, Pazaak, Duros 5-card, Duros 3-card, Arkanian Draw, and every form of liquor in the 'verse.  They've even got a GalaxyWar RTS tournament going on at Luudro's.  They wouldn't let me enter, the slimeballs.  'You'd just rig it so you'd win,'" she says, raising the pitch in her voice, clearly mocking whomever it was she'd spoken to.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:53, Fri 15 June 2012.

Duran had time to relax and settle in, staying near the back of the group, he settled in behind them wondering if he'd always end up feeling a little like the odd one out. He smiled and shook his head, this was all just so far out of what he had experienced, not the casino, not the people just....emotions.

Master had kept him clear of things that would confuse him and Duran wasn't sure that was the best thing to do. After all he had been born on an Agriworld so his lack of experience had simply been extended over 24 years and now he had no idea how to deal with certain things.

He supposed it was because he was so impulsive. Sighing he looked over at the Casino before looking at Hector's mother a little more closely, with a smile he said,"Well if you taught your son anything I know he'd rig it. I get the feeling he likes winning, might be a family trait."

He looked out at the Casino and smiled again,"So, Hector, what was it you wanted to show us? I think we might be able to get in just about anywhere now." With all the innuendo behind him, sort of, he was starting to get a little more confident, like when he first met them.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:59, Fri 15 June 2012.

As much as he wanted to take Oriana's comforting word to heart, it was difficult.  Still, he tried.  Though it seemed like a casual reunion, he was still conflicted about how to feel.  After all, he hadn't seen his mother in so long.  They hadn't had a bad parting, of course, but it was still a long time with no contact.  Perhaps jumping right into a normal interaction was the right way to do it.  It certainly felt right, so that was what he was going to go with.

"Hey, I take offense to that," Hector said, tossing a glare Duran's way. "You don't know me that well.  I don't rig things so I win, I simply don't play if I'm not going to win.  There's a difference." He grinned, and looked around a bit.  "In any case, I'm going to hit up the liquor shop to pick up a bottle or two of Corellia's finest.  Duran, why don't you come with me.  Ori... Mom... maybe a table somewhere nice?  Don't you have like... VIP tables or something for just this occasion?"

Duran nodded at Hector's words, a smile curling his lips,"Well, thank you for straightening that out for me. I'm glad to know." He smiled at Hector's offer, mildly surprised but pleasantly so, unless of course he was about to get yelled at, but he didn't think so.

With a nod he said,"Lead the way Captain, what I know about alcohol is dangerous." He smile grew when, for the first time, Hector called the woman Mom. He made his way next to Hector, ready to go.

Oriana laughs and spins around, flashing a huge grin as she continues to walk backwards to keep pace with the movement of the group.  "Don't play if you aren't guaranteed to win?  Sounds like someone owes me a pazaak rematch later, then."  She dips her head and peers over the rims of her orange lenses, adding in a lower voice, "Nar Shaddaa rules."

Another trademark grin punctuates this teasing, and Oriana pushes her glasses back into place, listening to Hector's suggestion.  "Someplace to sit that isn't surrounded by controls sounds like a grand idea."

"How dare you suggest any such thing about him, you naughty thing," says Eve, lowering her chin to look up at the young Jedi in a positively sultry manner.  The love for making Jedi uncomfortable seems to be another family trait.  The look's gone quickly though, and she shakes some of her curly hair out of her eyes as Hector and Duran begin their trek to the alcohol department.

"Now, Ori, was it?  You've got the look of someone who'd generally rather be around controls!" she says, smiling, as she kicks up a leisurely pace toward a lift that would take them down to the floor level.  She casually nods or smiles with recognition towards the occasional passerby.  "So what are you guys up to?  Some daring-do, saving the galaxy?"

Oriana laughs.  "Actually, I'd rather be in the engine bay, although the cockpit comes a close second.  We've been stuck in ours for most of the past thirteen or so hours, though, so it's time for a break." She grins, easily matching the pace set by Eve, the customary jingle of her equipment more than drowned out by the din of the casino.

"Something like that," she continues during a moment when no one else that recognizes Eve seems to be in the immediate vicinity.  "It's related to that whole... arrested by the Republic incident.  We get to babysit, they let us out of the clink.  Course, they're holding Hector's ship hostage while we do."  She shrugs and glances over, taking a moment to move her glasses up to the top of her head, pushing her hair out of her face in the process.  "Err... your ship, I guess."

The lift that Eve chooses brings the pair of you down to the ground just as quickly as you had gone up from the bay.  "Oh, it's his ship," she replies, "and I'd give him a harder time about it, but we've grown apart, and all that.  It's been...years.  I keep tabs on him, though.  Or at least more than he keeps on me, apparently," she says, winking again.

"He's right about one thing though," she begins as the lift stops, "VIP section, indeed!"  She continues to lead the way through the crowded casino floor, expertly slipping through the living traffic as though she were at the helm of her ship through a dense asteroid field.  She doesn't leave you behind, always just ahead of you in the crowd, but you get the feeling this maneuvering is practiced.

Oriana seems to be in her element on the casino floor, weaving deftly through the crowd in Eve's wake.  While it might be her first time on Port Nowhere, she grew up slipping through every dingy, crowded cantina and dive in Nar Shaddaa.  Some things, you never forget.

Though, she did feel less of a need to count her fingers, toes, possessions, and family members at the end of this trip, to ascertain that she hadn't been pickpocketed on the way through the room.  Perhaps it wasn't quite the same.

"Tabs, huh?" Oriana chuckles, content to follow Hector's mother until she came to a location she liked.  "You must be very good, to do that without him catching on.  I can't even find my folks when I go blatantly looking for them, much less trying to be subtle about it.  Course," she adds, grinning, "He is pretty hard to overlook.  Says you taught him everything he knows.  I'm impressed."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:29, Sat 16 June 2012.

"There's one key thing you need to know, Duran.  Alcohol ain't dangerous, the people who abuse it are.  Although they're a good deal less dangerous than they probably think they are while drunk," he said, chuckling.  Fortunately, one of the few places he remembered the location of aboard Port Nowhere was a particular little liquor shop that always had what he needed in stock.  It was a decent walk to get there though.

"The place we're going isn't far.  In case you're wondering, I brought you along as a pack mule of sorts."  He wasn't just going to get one bottle, after all.  He had to stock up - who knew how long they'd get dragged into serving on this silly mission.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:01, Sat 16 June 2012.

Duran flushed at Eve's comment and was more than happy to follow Hector away from his Mother. Duran smiled at Hector's little lecture and nodded,"There are some things I don't know much about, Hector, and some areas I'd prefer to leave alone because they are just too....complicated, but I'm not entirely naive. I just don't know much about the various types of alcohol, or where to buy it here."

His eyes flicked from side to side as he walked, looking over the various aliens, people and what they were doing. He grinned at Hector's comment about a pack mule,"Of course, I'd never think you brought me along for conversation."

He smiled, glancing back to where Eve and Oriana were and he shook his head,"Well, Eve is different. She approves of you, I think you two are quite similar."

"Well, see, that's why I didn't send you off on your own to pick up the drinks.  Then again, this is something I wouldn't even trust Oriana with.  Call me arrogant, but no one has as good a taste in alcohol as I do." Boasting or not, Hector was quite confident in that fact.  He knew the good liquors where others didn't.  It wasn't all about price after all, although the best ones did tend to be a little more expensive.

"She is something, that's for sure," Hector replied, with a sigh. "Hasn't changed much since I last saw her either.  Even the flirting.  I'd have warned you about that had I known she'd be here."  He glanced over at the Jedi.  "I... would also avoid using that trick you used to get attention in the cockpit a while back around her.  She's much quicker on the draw than even I am, and more likely to shoot first and ask questions later.  You know how it is with smugglers and the like - you don't often get a chance to retire.  She did."

Duran chuckled,"We each have our specialities, I wouldn't let you pick my lightsaber." He grinned at Hector's talk of his mother and nodded,"I'm not sure you would warn me, but I would appreciate it if you got the chance again. I don't really enjoy squirming, I don't think anyone does....it's never really been like this before."

He shrugged, and smiled at the mention of his trick,"I hope I'll never need to use that sort of trick to get attention again. I know you now, I know Ori now. I can appeal to you as people, rather than a group of strange people intent on arguing about things they can't change."

With a slightly arched eyebrow he said,"And I don't know about most smugglers, but you're almost ready to retire, don't you think, Old man?" His lips curved in a grin as he watched Hector's reaction. Pausing he pointed at his own face to indicate Hector's scar,"What happened there? It looks like a good story?"

"You know, that's probably part of the reason we had our problems earlier, and why its a possibility still," Hector said, with a sideways glance. "When I say something, I mean it.  True, I do lie, but only when necessary, and never to allies.  Had I known my mother was here, I would have warned you." He didn't sound angry, and he wasn't.  It was just something Hector wanted to clarify, and Duran had reminded him inadvertently.

"Makes sense, although in the future, I would still recommend other methods when in a cockpit environment.  Maybe try shouting?" He laughed, and hung a left as they approached a junction in the corridor.  He then pointed to his scar in response to Duran's question. "What, this old thing?  Had an encounter with a treacherous Mandalorian.  I can tell you the full story later if you like, we're almost at the shop."

Duran nodded, looking at the smuggler a moment and then sighing, he took hold of his arm. He looked him dead in the eyes and said,"Hector, you come across as a scoundrel, a conman and a thief. I won't deny it, and coming out in those cuffs didn't help your cause at all." He paused for a moment and then shook his head,"I don't know you, as you said, but I have a good feeling about you. You and Ori. Something she did right at the start made me think you were worse than what you are, much worse, and even then I was prepared to trust you on how I feel about her."

He stopped talking again,"Now, I am learning that you are not as bad as you appear. Remember I have spent the majority of my life in a monastery, when I wasn't in the monastery I was in the hands of a master who was very protective and scared, perhaps that's the wrong word, concerned about my impulsive nature."

He shrugged,"The feelings, just in case you are worried, are the feelings from the force. Nothing deeper, not yet. I hope we will become friends, I think we will, and I think we have a lot to teach each other. Things that may not be obvious right now."

"As for my methods in the cockpit, that's what my master didn't like either, but I figured everyone was already shouting...got to go one step further." He let go of Hector's arm and started walking again,"And I'd love to hear the story...for now though you can teach me about drinks."

The drag has a series of shops and eateries along the side.  Eve leads the way to what kind of smells like a mechanic's shop at high noon, a place with "Yurlig's Diner" scrawled in neon Huttese above the entrance.  She walks right in, nodding at the Twi'lek hostess instead of waiting to be seated, and through the small restaurant to a table near the back in view of one of the view holoscreens which seems to be displaying the GalaxyWar match she'd mentioned earlier.

She plops herself down in a booth.  "All right, so it's not really VIP, per se.  But the corntato fries are to die for!"  She offers Ori the seat next to her own.  "I'll let you sit across from Hector.  I'll take a view of that strapping young man for myself, thank you."  Her focus shifts to the holo for a bit, briefly making sense of what's going on before saying, "Ah see, Shreik there, he's got some nano skills.  Damn Arkanians.  I assume you have their comm frequency, I guess you should let them know where we are."

Oriana opens her mouth and starts to protest the choice of seating, but then quickly thinks the better of it.  Duran was probably safer across the table from this spitfire that was Hector's mother, although she was fairly certain that it was only by a matter of degrees.  She wasn't sure that anywhere on the dreadnaught was safe, once Eve had set her mind on something.  Or someone.  Of course, there was also the possibility that Eve was intentionally suggesting keeping Oriana away from her sweet little boy, too; a thought which very nearly made her laugh out loud.

And so, it's with a bit of a repressed snicker and clearly-displayed mirth upon her face that Oriana slides into the opposite seat and scoots to the end across from Eve anyway.  "Careful with him, he's skittish," she quips, flashing the older woman a grin.  "Get in his personal space, and he's liable to have a heart attack."

She shifts a bit to make herself comfortable, stretching one leg out along the edge of the seat, and idly glances at the holoscreen.  "Who's winning?" she asks, while retrieving a communicator from one of the many small pouches on her belt.  Oriana glances briefly at the device, flicking it to the same frequency as the Skyfisher's internal comms.  "We're at..." she pauses, reaching for a menu to remind herself of the name of the joint, "...Yurlig's Diner, on the port side of the drag."  A quick toss lands the menu back in the center of the table, and she leans back into the cushions of the booth, idly watching the GalaxyWar match on the sceen, leaving her commlink resting in her lap.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:13, Sun 17 June 2012.

Whoops, I said booth and then switched it to a table and chairs in my head without changing the text.  You can sit wherever you want...across from her would be less awkward I suppose.  That's what we'll go with, and Duran can sit right next to her.  :D

"Looks like an even match, just began," she says, shrugging.  A bunch of mirror replica miniature soldiers fire heavy weapons at a conglomeration of bug-like creatures there.  "But you didn't come here to watch that did you?  You're here because you were somewhere close-by, and unless your babysitting job is for the kid, which I doubt for a number of reasons, you've left your charge, or charges, behind somewhere."  She leans back, slouching a bit and draping her arms over the back of the seat.  "But at least you're with Hector.  Stay on his good side, you'll be fine."  She leans forward, resting on her elbows, folding her hands and nodding knowingly, saying, "And you're pretty, so doubly so."

Oriana tugs her glasses down and peers at Eve over their rims for a long moment, before a grin splits her face and she laughs.  "Thanks, and don't worry, I've got no intention of straying anywhere else."  Shaking her head slightly, still chuckling, she pushes her glasses up on top of her head and glances up at the screen.  "Pretty fades, though.  I'd rather be charming and competent, too," she adds, nodding across the table as if to say that the other woman was clearly all of the above.  Oriana grins, cutting her eyes sidelong at Eve, and adds, "Besides, I've already tried to kill him once.  Might as well try the other end of the spectrum, too.  It's a lot more fun, so far."

Her chuckle fades swiftly, and she leans back against the corner of the booth, closing her eyes for a moment before electing to answer the first question.  "We didn't leave 'em, exactly.  Not until they insisted we go.  Course, we might've ignored that, too, if one of the crazy bitches hadn't turned on us.  If the shields hadn't held, I'd be doing a lot more repairs here."  Oriana opens her eyes and glances around, making sure no one else is passing close by the table, continuing in a much lower voice intended for Eve's ears only, "They're on Corellia, with a whole karkload of Imperials."

"I don't - didn't - care what you thought," Hector said, deciding to simply tolerate Duran's choice of discussion. "The problem is that you insisted on telling me to my face.  If you don't trust me, don't counter what I say and tell me I'm lying.  Might not mean much to you, but when I'm tellin' the truth, I don't like to be told I'm not.  So, if you want us to become friends, keep that in mind." He tolerated the kid's 'pull aside the smuggler for a talk' until he let go, at which point Hector continued on and immediately hung a left into a nearby shop which Duran was on course to walk right by.

"It is a good story.  Maybe if you're lucky, I'll tell it to ya over a drink," Hector said, before turning to browse a wall of liquor bottles. "There's not a lot that can be taught, really.  Just gotta taste, and learn what's good and what's not.  I can get ya started though.  Stay away from this entire wall," he said, gesturing to a wall which had bottles marked that they were Sullustan. "Not well suited to human tastes - so they say.  I think its just piss.  What we want is... ah, here we go.  Corellian is among the best." He stopped by the wall of Corellian liquors, then turned to the shopkeeper in the back.

"Can I get a case of this?" he asked, to which the shopkeeper nodded and promptly disappeared into a back room.

Well that hadn't gone quite as he had planned, but so far no conversation, except for those with Shanda, had gone as planned. He blinked and followed the man in, immediately off balance when the tone was again friendly. He just didn't know what to expect with this guy.

"Right, nothing from Sullustan, lots from Corellia." He smiled at the order of a case,"You think you're going to be stuck in the Skyfisher for awhile, don't you?"

"Nope.  I'm just betting that the good General will have emptied the liquor cabinet aboard my starship, so I'll have to restock," Hector replied, moving to lean against the checkout counter while he waited for the shopkeeper. "Plus, a case isn't even all that much.  Probably won't even last as long as our stay aboard the Skyfisher.  In fact, I can guarantee that, which is why we'll pick up another case or two on our way out."

Duran blinked,"Really? How much does it take you before you can't focus properly?" He had never done more than taste stuff, but that seemed like an awful lot to him.

"That sounds a lot like a challenge," Hector replied, his grin growing wider.  Just then, the shopkeeper strolled back in, hefting a case that carried six bottles of Corellian Brandy. "It'll take me at least ten times what it'll take you, kid."  This time, when he addressed Duran as kid, he meant it as a taunt.  After all, one of the staples of becoming a man was to learn to hold your liquor.  Turning to the shopkeep, he paid the man, then cracked the case open and pulled out one of the bottles.  Gesturing then to Duran, he nodded at the case.  "Grab it, lets go catch up with the ladies," he said, pulling out his comlink as he got the message about where they were.

Duran snorted,"I'd only challenge you to drinking if I was safe on board the ship and had time to recover. I know where I'd end up...and also hand my lightsaber over to someone for safekeeping....then we could see."

He picked up the crate, as he did he closed on Hector again,"So, since we're starting to get to know each other, how long have you and Ori known each other? You seem to have a really good rapport."

Eve shares Ori's chuckle.  The sincerity therein looks like it rarely sees the light of day, and it has a rejuvinating effect on her demeanor.  She was already cheerful, but is now genuinely so.  However, it screeches to a halt when Ori alludes to her previous encounter with Hector.  A flash of anger bolts across her face, but it results in a mere raised eyebrow.  "See, that's how you know he's my son.  He's not dead, and still has that gumpy smile on his face all the time."  She inhales deeply and relaxes visibly, stretching the muscles in her neck by rolling her head back and forth.

She listens to Ori go on about Corellia.  In a loud whisper, she asks, "Imperials?  What do you mean?  Did their blasted war start up again?"  She seems to consider her own question, and before Ori can answer, "Corellia was neutral..."

At this point the Twi'lek has brought drinks, simple water at this point, and asks what else you'd like.  Eve responds, "Corntatoes!  Two helpings, please.  We're waiting on others to arrive."  The hostess-turned-waitress nods lightly and wordlessly heads toward the kitchen.

The restaurant is rather empty, but for a middle-aged woman and a verge-of-adulthood young man sitting in the opposite corner.

Oriana laughs and raises her hands in a slight display of defensiveness, at the flash of anger on Eve's face.  "Hey... hey, he was in the process of filling my captain full of blaster bolts at the time.  Girl's gotta protect her captain, right?" She flashes a knowing smile across the table, knowing full well that she doesn't need to point out to the older woman that Hector is her captain, now.  "Besides, that was years ago."

She shrugs and sinks down a bit in her seat, resting her elbow on the table and leaning in a bit once the waitress has left, her voice low enough to not carry beyond the table.  "Far as I know, they still are.  There was a fairly large Imperial force that came in right after us, but not enough to take the whole rock.  They're after somethin', though, for sure.  I just don't know what."

She seems to just let the incident involving former hostilities pass with a dismissive wave of her hand.  "Well you two're all right now, apparently."

Eve sets her own elbow to rest behind her, gesticulating with her other hand on the table in front of her.  "From what I remember of Corellia, it's less a planetary government and more an allegiance of corporations.  Set up shop in their headquarters and you might just have the planet, without nearly as much fuss as you would otherwise.  And if you've got Corellia, you've got an industrial boon.  They may have been independent, but they were at least allies to the Republic, and this will be quite the robbery in the Imperials' favor."

"Yeah," Oriana agrees, sighing somewhat.  "Problem is, we don't know what they're after.  We were keepin' the ship hot, while our charges went to talk with... someone.  Then," she gestures with her hand as she talks, still somewhat unnerved by the whole experience.  "Then they show back up, talking nonsense, and turning on us.  Now, I don't rightfully know if we need to go back and rescue 'em, or leave 'em hung out to dry."


Oriana shrugs and reaches for her glass, taking a long swallow of the water.  "So we're here, to contact command and cover our asses."

"Sounds like a failure to communicate," Eve responds dryly.

Oriana snorts, practically choking on a swallow of water for a moment.  "Of epic proportions."

"Ahh, you're no fun," Hector replied with a shrug, as he headed out of the shop, assuming Duran would be following.  He slowed just enough to allow the Jedi to catch up. "You're a Jedi, aren't you?  Aren't you able to lie, cleanse the body of toxins or something like that?  I've seen Jedi breath toxic gas and come out unharmed, so recovering from excess drinking shouldn't be too difficult."

He shrugged, then moved on.  The next question caught him off guard; did it really seem like he and Oriana were longtime friends?  That was interesting.  "What gave you the idea we've known each other for a long time?" he asked, laughing. "I've known her a day longer than I've known the rest of you.  Well, by name and personality anyway.  I suppose you could say the first time we met was when I shot her boss, and she tried to shoot me.  As for why we're buddy buddy?  Well... kindred spirits, I suppose."

"No fun? No I can be, but I know my limits, you just want to see what I get up to....so would I, but not at the cost of losing a friend or something stupid like that." He smiled,"Jedi don't all have the same abilities, I would only have my natural toughness against any poison gas you chose to administer to me."

His next answer caused Duran to stumble, and blush,"What? Two days? And before that you were shooting each other?" He shook his head, looking more than a little confused as he tried to figure it out,"I thought it took longer than that before...well you know..."

He shook his head again,"Alright, maybe I'm being stupid again. I don't understand all this stuff....maybe I do need to drink." He sounded a little desperate, like something was slipping away from him.

Hector let out a bellowing laugh. "Duran, I sincerely doubt that you getting drunk would result in the loss of a friend.  A lightsaber is dangerous, but a drunk Jedi much less so.  Plus... Oriana and I are more than capable of handling ourselves.  If you're worried about that though, just hand over the 'saber until you're done.  I'll keep good care of it." Rounding a corner, Hector spotted the restaurant that Oriana had indicated.  He didn't take them right to the table though, not until he'd answered Duran's other question.

"Yup.  A smuggler's life is a complicated one," Hector replied with a shrug.  "Also usually a short one.  That's likely part of why it didn't take so long.  Beyond that... well, you'd have to ask Oriana if you want any concrete answers, as I can only surmise.  The fact we're kindred spirits would be one point, and I do believe she finds a good pilot sexy.  Perhaps I'm simply her type?  I am quite the charming bastard, you know." Flashing his smuggler's grin, Hector rounded a table and spotted Oriana and his mother at a booth in the back.

"That's the spirit!  You'll get the first one outta the bottle - that's an honor, you know," he said, heading over to the table. "Good evening, ladies!  Did ya save us a seat?"

Duran shook his head at Hector,"I'll give it to Oriana, thanks, particularly if we're going to be challenging each other." He smiled, but it was forced, this was so far out of his realm of knowledge, he just didn't understand these people that well.

He thought he understood Oriana, more or less, and perhaps only in certain areas. When it came to sex, love and that...well he was so under-prepared he wondered if all this talk of remaining unattached was really good. Yes, it kept them from the Darkside, and that was the main thing, but he really felt at sea at the moment.

He frowned, pushing his doubts aside, no, this was the right way. He had seen how biased Oriana had become and in such a short time? Two days? He blinked, still not sure how to deal with that. Perhaps it was best he just ignore it.

He smiled at Hector's comment about being a charming bastard,"I'm sure you are. She clearly likes you..." Well it had to be clear right? This was too confusing, he waved at the girls and moved to sit. He didn't even focus on were, just went to the table waited to see where Hector was sitting, and then took the empty chair.

He wasn't sure what an honour it was, but he unclipped his lightsaber and pushed it over to Oriana with a wan smile,"Keep that safe, right, Hector....what's your poison?" He took out his credit chip,"Got a little on here, might not last long enough for you, but should be plenty for me."

This still felt like a bad idea to him, but he just felt so out, this wasn't right. He was supposed to be connected to everything through the force, not feel more isolated because of his training.

"Long time no see!" Eve calls out.

[Private to Oriana Cy'Kast; Hector Terrachova: As Duran enters, the woman at the table on the opposite corner from Eve and Ori looks surprised, and you see her keeping a watchful eye, particularly after he pushes the lightsaber across the table.]

Oriana perks up as the men come into view, her attention easily ripped away from the GalaxyWar match on the holoscreen.  "They look like they're getting along," she murmurs under her breath, a smile playing at the corners of her lips as she rather unashamedly admires Hector's approach.  She doesn't have to glance over to know that Eve's attention has likely been caught as well, but she pointedely avoids looking to verify.  It was enough to know that the older woman was probably openly ogling Duran, without having to witness it.  She had a feeling this night was going to be very educational for the Jedi.

"No.  Saved you two," Oriana retorts teasingly, moving her leg down from where she'd had it stretched out along the seat next to her.  Chuckling, she glances past, indicating the case of liquor with an inclination of her head.  "I see you came prepared to pay the toll," she adds, flashing a grin and beckoning Hector with a crooked finger.

As Duran pushes over his lightsaber, Oriana's mirth fades considerably.  "Duran, don't you think you should keep that?" she asks quietly, taking a moment to cautiously maneuver the hilt around with a fingertip to where it rests perpendicular to the edge of the table in front of her.   "I've no right to one, and don't want anyone thinking I stole it."

Duran looked at her a moment and shrugged,"Put it in a pocket, or bag. I just want it out of my reach...I've never done something like this before. I'd hate to make a mistake."

He sighed, and forced a smile,"I'd hate to cut off my own arm in an attempt to open a new bottle....that would be embarrassing. You can give it back to me when I've recovered....I trust you with it."

"Oh, you shouldn't have!"  Eve takes the case and puts it on the table right in front of her, with both arms around it in a possessive sort of hug.  "What forms of payment do you take?" she asks, with an exaggerated batting of her eyes at Duran.

Shortly after Hector and Duran arrive, a petite woman slips into the establishment. She's dressed simply, covered primarily from the neck down in a form fitting flight suit of a rich viridian green hue. However, if she was hoping to pass for a common sailor or technician, her hair ruins any chance of it. It's pulled into a tight and practical tail, but it passes through a heavy looking golden ring, accented with a large green gemstone, aside which rest a smattering of smaller ones. The length, too, the tail coming to its tapered end just below her buttocks, makes it entirely too easy to get it caught on something amongst a starships often cramped spaces.

Looking at her more closely, one would swiftly realize that the thick black belt on her waist is no tool belt, instead resembling that of a soldier or bounty hunter. Each of the plethora of pockets appears to be stuffed to capacity, though it is impossible to ascertain their contents. Then there's the blaster, that all but vanishes entirely into the holster strapped to her thigh. The grip is showing, though, and it's clearly molded to the owners hand, if you're familiar with such things. Finally, on that same side, her arm is adorned with a variety of panels and electronics, seemingly jumbled onto an ordinary bracer or glove. A compact, but probably complete keyboard can be made out along her forearm, while a display seems to adorn the back of her hand.

She waves at the other occupants, the woman and young man, showing off the slender and long case she's carrying in the process, before she strides over to them with a bright smile. [Private to GM: "Isabel, Derick, there you are! You look well... especially you Derick, how much bigger are you planning on getting?"]
This message was last edited by the player at 21:13, Thu 21 June 2012.

Hector waved a hand at Duran's suggestion that he buy the drinks, and laughed as he slid in beside Oriana as beckoned. "Why d'you think I had you bring the case to the table?  Put the creds away, we're drinkin' the good stuff tonight.  And so are you.  Waiter, four glasses!" he called out, already working on opening the bottle of Corellian Brandy he had pulled out on the way to the restaurant.  He had noticed the couple on the way in, but didn't pay them much attention - he was used to getting looks due to his more flamboyant nature a times, and Duran stood out in here like a Gundark at a pet show.

Ignoring his mother's... doting upon Duran, he turned to Oriana with a smile.  "Did she behave while I was gone?" he asked, nodding towards his mother.  "She can be quite the handful, I admit."

"Oh, more or less."  Oriana smiles, adding with a perfectly straight face that belies the teasing undertone in her voice.  "She was telling me all kinds of horror stories about you.  I'm shocked, really." Of course, she doesn't manage to maintain this straight face for more than it takes to get the words out, before dissolving into a fit of chuckles.

"I'm teasing.  I did tell her about some of why we're here, exactly, though," she leans over and whispers into Hector's ear, taking full advantage of the distraction afforded by the proximity of her lips to pluck the unopened bottle of liquor out of his hand.  With a smirk, she makes a great show of examining the label, adding with amusement, "Oh, this looks infinitely better than that swill on the ship."

Duran was having an entirely different set of problems, meeting Ms Terrachova's mothers stare. He swallowed rather awkwardly for a moment and then realised he was doing what he always did. Getting rattled, he glanced over at Hector, only to see Oriana whispering at him....so maybe he could use Hector's tricks? Try Charm?

He blushed terribly as he straightened, gave the woman his best lewd wink, and said in an obvious imitation of Hector's voice,"Cash or kind, Ma'am, cash or kind...of course we can arrange a discount...for a pretty little thing like you." His face lit up like a tomato and he looked at the glass, reaching across to grab the bottle out of Oriana's hand, now he needed a drink.

The bottle slipped out easily enough, perhaps Oriana wasn't expecting him to grab it. With a nod to Eve he filled her glass first then Oriana's then his own and finally Hectors. Taking his glass he looked at Oriana,"So do I drink this fast or slow?"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:26, Tue 19 June 2012.

Eve can do little but laugh in response to Duran's attempted compliment.  "And a gentleman!  Hector could stand to learn a thing or two from this guy!"  She continues laughing heartily.

The Twi'lek waitress arrives with some glasses and, with a smile, asks if anyone would like something to eat.

Meanwhile, the newcomer and the party of two exchange a few words, inaudible at this distance.  [Private to Dame Helene Decrilla: Derick offers you a lopsided expression of confusion.  "H-hi," is all he can manage.  His mother, on the other hand, stares at you quietly, obviously recognizing you but wondering where this is headed.  "Derick, this is Helene Decrilla.  Helene, feel free to pull over a chair."]
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:46, Tue 19 June 2012.

Helene bows slightly, before pulling out one of the chairs and taking a seat. Their conversation continues, the culmination of Helenes speech coinciding with her presenting the case she's carrying to the youngster.

[Private to GM: "It's been a while, hasn't it?" she say, generally, before addressing the boy specifically, "I have something, that rightfully belongs to you. It was your fathers." If the boy opens the case, inside he finds an elegantly forged sword of a silvery gleaming metal, adorned with intricate etchings all along the guard and strong of the straight blade.]
This message was last edited by the player at 21:13, Thu 21 June 2012.

"It strikes me she would've figured it out eventually if you hadn't told her," Hector replied, at an equally low voice.  "To be honest, I'm surprised she didn't tell you horror stories, not that there are any.  But ask anyone's parents, and they'll have embarrassing stories about you when you were a kid, that you likely don't remember.  Guess I'm lucky, hmm?"  Hector chuckled lightly.  He wasn't particularly worried about any of that though; he didn't have much that needed hiding, and especially not to Oriana.

"Now, see, that's your choice, cowboy," Hector said, leaning on the table a bit as he watched Duran with his glass of brandy.  "Its good liquor, so you may want to savor it.  However, for someone who hasn't... gotten used to a good liquor, you might enjoy it more if you slam it back."

"Exceptionally lucky."  Oriana responds with a smile, collecting her glass and settling back against the cushions of the booth, without bothering to scoot back over any.  Thoroughly amused, she watches Duran over the rim of her glass, taking a slow sip of her own brandy.  For a moment she lets her eyes flutter closed, clearly savoring the taste, before nodding once, almost to herself.  She hadn't really expected it to be bad, but she was more than pleasantly surprised that it was as good as it was.  Of course, she should have expected that, too, given Hector's sense of taste.

The corners of her mouth twitch into a grin at the thought, and Oriana glances around the table while taking another sip.  She shifts the tiniest bit, crossing one leg over the other beneath the table with the faintest jingle of her assortment of hardware.

Duran smiled, looking at the laughing Eve, and the other two. Apparently it wasn't that hard, even if he was feeling like a lobster dumped into the pot he was so red. Looking at the glass he sighed,"Well, bottoms up then Captain....and leave me dressed and with eyebrows intact....hopefully." With a wink at Hector he tossed the drink back...or attempted to.

What followed was a couple of seconds of coughing and spluttering as he tried to deal with the burn. Rubbing his throat he looked at the bottle and wheezed,"Not bad...anyone else for a refill?"

Eve laughs some more.  When it's subsided to a softer snicker, she begins absentmindedly spinning the bottle on its base in front of her, staring at it.  "So," she begins, "I'm sorry if this is weird coming from me at this point, but...is there anything I can do to help?"

[Private to Dame Helene Decrilla: Derick looks to his mother, silently asking for approval.  She nods, and he does open it.  He appears startled at its contents, and seems afraid to touch it.  "My father's..." he says quietly.  "How did you know my father?" he asks, his eyes wide, genuinely curious.

His mother seems about to stifle the question, but instead idly scratches her head.]

"Not yet, Duran," she answers the Jedi's question, offering a sympathetic smile across the table.  "Help yourself." She can imagine how that coughing fit had felt: she can still feel her own from a few hours before, with that Sullustan swill.  In fact, Oriana's still nursing a bit of a leftover buzz from that round of drinking, hence her decision to start slow this time around.

Her glass pauses halfway to her lips, and Oriana cuts her eyes sidelong at Hector in the wake of his mother's offer.  A handful of things that would be useful immediately spring to mind, but she isn't going to impose on Eve's hospitality any more than Hector's willing to.  She is his mother, after all.

Helene watches the boy open her gift, visibly delighted to see that he approves, even from across the room. His mother doesn't seem so enthused, however, and as the conversation continues, she reaches across the table to set her hand over the boys.

[Private to GM: "Your father, was my teacher. He taught me a little about the White Current, as I'm sure your mother has taught you, and he taught me how to use a sword. But most importantly, he taught me to take care of the people I love. You're coming to an age where you're old enough to start looking after your loved ones, as he did, so I brought you his weapon. It's made of Songsteel... It's the opposite of a lightsaber, completely impervious to harm and able to deflect blasters and lightsaber blades, but the wounds it leaves are small, just enough to disable someone without hurting them more than you needed to."]
This message was last edited by the player at 21:12, Thu 21 June 2012.

Hector merely shook his head, and emphasized the refusal by taking a long sip of his mostly-full cup.  He was one that tended to enjoy this type of drink rather than throw it back, and since he didn't intend to actually get drunk, there was no need to do otherwise.  Turning to his mother, he shrugged.

"It'd be great if you could talk some sense into the crew on the ground," he replied, with a shrug.  "Beyond that... well, I can't think of a whole lot at the moment." Hector glanced at Oriana, and nodded.  If she wanted to ask for something, there was no reason not to.  At worst, Eve would merely say no.

Duran reached over and carefully took the bottle out of Eve's hands, not wanting to disturb the talking, filling his cup he placed the bottle in the middle and rubbed his throat. A little slower this time?

His eyes flicked between the three of them, wondering what he could say but he decided for now to keep quite. Asking for electronics they didn't really need was hardly going to earn him any points.

Lifting the glass to his lips he sipped, it still burned but now it was tolerable, and he could feel a kind of warmth spreading from his stomach. It wasn't bad...he could get used to that.

Oriana nods, flicking her gaze back across the table to Eve.  She mulls a few things over while taking a sip of her brandy, debating what to ask for - and mentally chuckles at herself for the very fact that she's not immediately rattling off an entire list of spoils.  It was one thing to con explosives out of the good General Garza courtesy of playing Komad, but entirely another to be greedy where Hector's mother was concerned.  A girl has to have some sense of decency.

Taking another swallow of her drink, Oriana sets the glass upon the table, and idly runs the tip of her middle finger around the rim, nodding almost to herself.  "If you've got a mechanic I can borrow in the morning, when I start on repairs, I could really use the extra set of hands.  Other than that..."  She trails off for a moment, glancing over at Duran, and then at Hector, before continuing.  "A half-dozen sets of your security team's best binder cuffs might come in handy."  She doesn't have to say that while they wouldn't do a damn thing against Sith, there's a very real possibility that members of their ground team might need to be restrained to prevent them doing anything else stupid.

Just then, a highly polished and atypically feminine droid shuffles into the establishment, calling out in a loud voice.

"My Lady! My Lady! That rascal left us! Oh, I'd give my spare motivator to give the knave a piece of my mind!" she shouts, flailing about with the somewhat limited range of motion typical of third order droids.

"Calm down, GiGi! Everybody in here is going to start staring at us," Helene commands the droid, with a disapproving tone.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:09, Thu 21 June 2012.

"Staring? Staring! My lady, we've been stranded and you're worried about people staring!?" the droid replies, distraught and exasperated.

Duran's eyes were drawn to the droid, shrieking at the top of it's capacitors about stranded and staring what did it expect? He glanced at the owner, and then down at his drink, taking a sip. She was interesting, all that jewellery possible someone rich...although rich and stranded.

Raising an eyebrow he decided to look a little closer, opening himself to the force he stretched out his mind to the woman and her droid companion. What was going on here?

OOC:
07:40, Today: Duran rolled 26 using 1d20+15. Perception (Force Perception).

Hector, too, noticed the commotion, although he did not turn to look.  He merely leaned back a bit in the booth, lifted his arm to put it around Oriana's shoulders (provided she didn't make an indication that she didn't want him to), and relaxed.  He could see Duran's interest piqued, though, and shook his head slightly.

"Lots of people have problems on Port Nowhere," he said, as though he were giving advice to someone younger.  "You only invite trouble if you stick your nose in them."  He wasn't specifically suggesting Duran mind his own business - he wasn't about to prevent the kid from learning the hard way - but he was advising him to consider doing otherwise.

Eve leans forward on her elbows and points at Ori, smiling.  "You had only to ask!" she exclaims.  "I'll be there with my tools whenever you're ready.  As to...binders?  I have one pair I'd say are better than anything security detail could provide, but that's only one.  I'll try to arrange it, though."  She watches the scene across the restaurant unfold with mild interest.

[Private to Duran: Looking closer while Helene moves, it becomes apparent that there is a long, possibly tubular object, concealed inside her flight suit, between her breasts. Given the close fit of the suit, once tipped off to look for it, the top edge of the object becomes very noticeable.]

The conversation at the other table continues after the droid's interruption, seemingly heating up a bit given the frowns and more exaggerated gesticulations.

[Private to Dame Helene Decrilla: Derick is clearly impressed, both by the weapon and your brief telling of the tale.  Isabel, however, taps her fingers impatiently on the table.  After GiGi relates the tribulation, the boy's mother seems miffed, frowning.  "And I suppose you'll need passage off this barge?  Is that what this is, you're here to beg for transport?" she asks.

Derick cuts in, "Mom, she knew my father.  Would she really be here just for that?"

"Your father knew lots of women, for all we know," she retorts.  "This one just happened to keep one of his toys.  She'll not be able to give back everything she took from him, I think.  We should be going."  Isabel prepares to leave, gathering up her few possessions she had tucked between her booth seat and the wall.]

Duran coloured, whether at Hector's words or at what he saw was hard to tell,"I've noticed, but I can't help myself." Something was bothering him though as he looked a little concerned and distracted, enough that his familiar sarcasm surfaced,"You with binders, Ms Terrachova, you have similar taste in jewellery to your son...it was the first thing I saw him wearing too."

Anyone who had known him for even the shortest time knew he was not focusing on his own words, he didn't blush once while saying that as he glanced out the corner of his eye at the woman again.

Then he was back, looking at Oriana, he this time went bright red,"Ummm, this is going to sound weird, very, so just bear with me please. Ori, do you think you could do me a favour and have a look at the red head's...ummm... breasts......."

He flushed terribly and coughed,"Not Ms Terrachova of course, the other one....I think she's hiding something." He looked at his lightsaber a moment and the thing twitched, just a little but anyone following his gaze would have seen it.

[OOC:
17:22, Today: Duran rolled 31 using 1d20+15. Use force(Telekinesis).
17:20, Today: Duran rolled 17 using 1d20+15. Use Force (Sense Force)]
This message was last edited by the player at 15:24, Fri 22 June 2012.

"Thanks," she smiles at Eve.  "Having a helping hand in the morning means we can actually take the night off and relax, while still making decent headway tomorrow.  I appreciate it."

Although she can hear the clamoring of the droid - along with everyone else in the establishment, surely - Oriana ignores it for the most part.  She's comfortable, and surprisingly content for having been shot at just hours before, and absolutely unwilling to move even the slight bit that would be necessary to get a better view of the ruckus.  Instead, she takes another sip of her brandy and relaxes, tilting her head back to rest on Hector's arm.  Her hand poised above the table, she dangles her glass from her fingertips, caught up for a moment in watching the hypnotic swirl of the amber liquid within.

For a minute there, she thinks about pointing out that they aren't exactly in a position to assist the stranded woman anyway, unless she wants a ride to Corellia - which Oriana is fairly certain would be a damn fool thing to want, if that woman knew what was happening on Corellia currently.  Of course, that's before Duran's stammering manages to pull Oriana out of her rapt contemplation of her brandy.

She blinks, glancing across the table at the Jedi, arching one eyebrow curiously.  "It's Port Nowhere, Duran.  Everyone here is hiding something, in all possible interpretations of the phrase.  Even us.  Be more specific?"
This message was last edited by the player at 15:36, Fri 22 June 2012.

"Why you insufferable- How dare you accuse my Lady of-" the droid starts shouting at the woman seated at the table, gesticulating angrily, to the point that she's clipping her own sentences...

Helene snaps her fingers, and just like that, GiGi slumps over, silent and still.

Shaking her head, she continues their conversation is a calm tone, with only minimal and smooth gestures to accompany her points.

[Private to GM: "You can hate me until your last breath, Isabel, if it makes you feel better. I promise you, though, there is nothing you could ever do to me that is any match for what I have done to myself. And no, I do not need your help, in fact, I am here to offer you mine."

Pausing a moment to let that all sink in, she continues, "I'm under no illusions that there is anything I could do that will ever fully correct my mistake, but my father has an offer he would make for his part in it. He has a position for an aide available, who reports to him alone, and he would like very much for you to accept it, Derick."

11:06, Today: Secret Roll: Dame Helene Decrilla rolled 24 using 1d20+15. Hide from Sense Force.]
This message was last edited by the player at 18:12, Fri 22 June 2012.

[Private to Duran: The young man is clearly Sensitive, but you sense nothing about the other two women there.  You also notice another somewhere here on Nowhere, but definitely not in the restaurant, much farther away.]

The conversation over there continues as the older woman looks about ready to get up and leave.

[Private to Dame Helene Decrilla: "Aide?" asks Derick.  "Why?"]
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 19:42, Sat 23 June 2012.

Duran frowned, something wasn't right, he sighed,"Well, she's hiding something like what I carry between her...ummmm...bosom, round, tubular, buzzes a little. This means she's either like me, or she's like you or she's like the people who arrived at Corellia after we did....and although I can't feel her the young man I can...she may be recruiting."

Was it a Sith recruiting? She certainly didn't look like a Jedi but that didn't mean she wasn't. They were known to go in disguise sometimes. Still something didn't feel right.

Still Hector was right, it was best he didn't stick his nose into things. He was, after all, already on a mission. Sighing he lifted his drinks,"If you think it's not important, well I can ignore it." He glanced that way once more, sipping his drink and looking a little disappointed, he didn't like staying out of things.

Finally, after some time, Hector looked from Duran to the woman in question.  She was quite attractive, and he couldn't blame the kid for having his eyes drawn to those areas of her body.  He didn't look for too long though, before turning back to Duran.  In truth, he was trying his hardest - to a fair amount of success - to not just burst out laughing at his request of Oriana.

"Well, Duran, if you're that interested... why don't you go over there and ask her about the round, tubular, buzzing thing she has in her bosom.  I'm sure she'd love to tell you all about it."  He then sat back and downed the rest of his current glass, thinking about just how interesting this was going to be.

Caught in the midst of taking a sip of her brandy, Oriana sputters and coughs, choking back a laugh as well as a mouthful of liquor.  "Has she said anything about it being for his own good, yet?" she adds in a wry tone, once she's capable of speech.  "If not, I doubt she's like you and recruiting."  Her mouth twists around the word, as if it was something distasteful, and Hector can surely feel the way she tenses while speaking.

Oriana glances at Duran and sighs slightly, while taking another deliberate swallow of her drink.  Maybe it was important, at least to him.  She might as well, if it would ease his mind...  As subtly as possible, she leans around Hector to steal a glance at the woman across the diner, fixing her table with a somewhat unfocused stare for a handful of moments.

"You're right about the boy, and she is as well.  There's another here somewhere, too." She shrugs, and then settles back, nestling a bit into the curve of Hector's arm in a subconscious attempt to forget her flicker of irritation.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:08, Sun 24 June 2012.

Duran seemed oblivious to the double meaning in Hector's words, those things were definitely not in the Jedi curriculum. Although he did raise an eyebrow, he knew they were laughing at him, but he didn't know what it was about. Was it really that strange to worry about others? Were they that hardened?

He glanced at Oriana, he knew she cared, although she was a little strange about some things, as was he about others, he nodded when she confirmed his guess. He looked at Hector,"Can I borrow a glass and a bottle, I'll pay you back, I think this might be better once she's done, and away from you guys....I think it's better that way."

He collected his lightsaber while waiting for permission to take the drink, he was clearly planning on moving to another table, alone, before trying to speak to the woman about her bosom....or at least her motives.

The conversation at the far table continues, though as the red head in a flight suit finishes speaking again, she peers over at your table briefly.

[Private to GM: "My father is a very busy man. He's a Baron, a lord of the Tapani Empire, with businesses to manage on three planets, seven moons, and I don't even know what else. So, he needs smart and trustworthy people who can help him keep track of things, look out for his interests. Especially someone like you, Derick, who has great gifts. Gifts we'd like to help you learn more about. As for why I would come all the way here to ask you if you were interested, personally?"

"People make mistakes, Derick. Ten years ago, a lot of people made mistakes. Myself and my father included. All of those mistakes together, is why your father died. My father asked for you, because he'd like to make amends for his mistakes. Your mother has probably told you that I killed him, or she was going to after you leave here... and that's true. My mistake was the last one made, and so the most costly, to all of us."

"And speaking of mistakes... is it just me, or are those people over there entirely too interested in us?"]

Eve has redirected her focus to the game playing on hologram at this point, obviously tensing at key moments as different digital soldiers run respond to the commands of their owners.

[Private to Dame Helene Decrilla: Derick seems to mull over what you've said, staring at the sword, still in the box.  He seems to regard taking it out in the same way he would regard accepting the offer, and has done neither, yet.

Isabel, on the other hand, is ready to leave, but hasn't.  She answers your question, saying, "Your droid sounded as though she were about to start a riot when she entered.  They're just not particularly clandestine with their nosiness, as far as I can tell."]

Hector merely shrugged.  They did have a case, after all, and would likely be picking up more.  Plus, he really doubted the entire bottle would be expended with this... well, he wasn't quite sure what Duran was going to do, but in all honesty, he really wanted to see it.

"Be my guest," he said, before leaning back to watch the show, and to give Oriana a better view.

Helene shrugs and leans back into her chair, making a comment to the other people at her table while continuing to keep her eyes on the others - especially Duran when he picks up the Lightsaber.

[Private to GM: "I'll handle them. The young one seems interested in me anyway. I'll see you around, eventually. And remember, you are both always welcome at my House."]

Duran seemed a little more focused than he had been since he had got onto the ship to fight the Sith Inteceptor, well at least after the battle. Standing he clipped the saber onto his belt and took the bottle two glasses and moved to a new table. Filling both he pushed one into the space opposite his chair and then looked at the red head, meeting her eyes for a moment.
[Private to Dame Helene Decrilla: A touch of another mind brushes your, hesitantly giving you plenty of time to push it away. If allowed a voice echos in your mind,"Drink?"]

He smiled, wondering how hard this was going to be, had to be easier than talking to Oriana. At least he was feeling relaxed with two glasses of brandy on an empty belly. He sipped his third glass as he waited for her.

Helene quirks an eyebrow, then shrugs at the other people at her table again before sliding to her feet and slowly approaching Durans table. She has her thumbs hooked into her belt, which just makes her arrogant swagger even more pronounced. Reaching the table, she stops and regards Duran thoughtfully a moment, before placing both hands on the back of the chair in front of her and leaning over it.

"You don't look like a Jedi," she comments flatly, a touch of an accent to her voice. It isn't difficult to place, being the sort one hears amongst nobility and others who speak High Galactic.

Her walk has him sipping a little more deeply at his drink already, maybe he should have listened to Hector, she seemed to share the self-confidence that Oriana possessed, except perhaps one or two degrees higher, like she thought she was important. Her tone let him know why...a noble?

He pointed at the drink,"Neither do you, apparently looks can be deceiving...ummm....that is a good place to hide it though." His eyes dropped to the front of her suit a moment, his face colouring as he tried to recover his equilibrium, she couldn't just put it in her pocket right?

"At least it would...umm...distract your opponent when you draw it.", say that wasn't half bad, despite the fact he was slightly pink now. He just had to work on the ummm's. Looking across at the boy he seemed to recover better when thinking about things other than her bosom,"So are you recruiting? Or just chatting to friends?"

Oriana stifles a snicker, shifting a little to get a better view of the... proceedings.  "Care to make this more interesting?" she asks, lifting her glass to take another sip, and then gesturing slightly with her half-empty glass towards the table Duran had moved to.  "Shot every time he stammers or turns a brighter shade of red, two if she does."

Then, as if the rules had already been agreed to, she tosses back the rest of her brandy and sets the empty glass on the table, without actually moving from her relaxed position otherwise.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:16, Mon 25 June 2012.

Helenes eyebrow quirks, and her head tilts slightly to that side.

"You have a Jedis sheer brazen gall, though, to ask me my business while admitting that you're peering at my chest. In a flight suit, no less," she replies, though one corner of her mouth curls upwards into an amused smirk.

She slips around the chair and sits, reflexively smoothing her pants despite not really needing to, and crossing her legs. "Why don't you start by explaining who you are, and what you want, first."

Oh yea, the High Galactic level of enunciation is coming out in full force now, as if the picture perfect posture wasn't enough of a hint by itself. She even folds her hands together on her thigh, her fingers precisely aligned.

Keeping his attention focused primarily on Duran - he didn't want to miss the show after all - he tipped his head towards Oriana a bit so he could hear her better.  A drinking game would certainly be a lot of fun... although he did have one modification to add, which he only suggested after downing the rest of his glass according to the rules she had already stated.

"The bottle if she leaves with him," he added, with a smirk.  He doubted it would come to that, but they had to have that clause just in case.

"You're on."  Oriana straightens enough to reach across and snag the opened bottle from the center of the table.  Without looking away from the show, she pops the top off with her thumb and deftly refills both glasses roughly halfway.  "Clearly, that means opening two fresh bottles after this one," she adds with a chuckle.  "Just to be fair, of course."

For a moment, she thinks about recapping the bottle, but then decides that would clearly be a waste of effort.  Leaving it open on the edge of the table, she retrieves her glass and settles back into place under Hector's arm, subtly angling herself to keep an eye on Duran and the other woman simultaneously.

[OOC: Hmmm, this is far to much like tempting fate...hold off you two...Heh]

Duran's eyes dropped immediatly to the area he was accused of looking at then back up to her face, his mind hitting a blank for a moment and then he coughed and shook his head,"No, no, no....umm... I was looking at the item you had hidden there....ummm...it's a nice suit..." This wasn't going well.

Shaking his head he focused on her face, his own a bright crimson,"Right, ummm, not a Jedi then." His hand rose to his own Padawan braid for a moment before dropping as he tried to cover the move,"I am Duran, and I want to know a little more about you..." There, he had introduced himself, he could do this,"What is your name? You're clearly well educated...and well armed. Who trained you?"

Without thinking he used the glass to gesture at her chest as he said that, totally unaware of what it might look like to the others in the room,"Although it's got to be smaller to fit in.....ummmmm.....well there's not much space....crap..."

He looked at his glass and frowned,"I don't suppose we can just pretend I didn't kind of, sort of say anything about that?" Crimson was a good colour for him perhaps he took a deep breath, clearly planning on saying something else and then stopping, giving her a chance to speak...he had said enough.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:07, Mon 25 June 2012.

Helene manages to keep a straight face, but only with monumental effort that betrays itself in the way her lips purse together so as to not snicker out loud.

"So you're a Jedi, huh?" she inquires, and without waiting for his answer, lifts her hand. With a flourish of her fingers, she takes hold of the tab on the flight suits zipper, and begins to work it ever so slowly down.

"You may call me Helene," she informs him with all the poise of a professional speaker, right before her suit opens far enough to reveal the delicate weapon resting in her cleavage. The casing is detailed with precious metals, one of which is surely electrum given the weapons predominantly golden sheen. It has several gemstones, all in shades of crimson, arranged equally around the guard. She pulls it out of her suit, held rather daintily with the tips of her fingers, revealing that is barely longer than her hand is wide, and sports a tassel of the same or longer length.

It's absence from its resting place also reveals beyond any doubt, that there is no other manner of garment beneath the flight suit, at least on her chest.

Oriana doesn't even bat an eyelash before knocking back her glass and resting the empty one on her thigh.  "Your turn to pour."

"Or is that a double?" she asks, inclining her head slightly towards the other table.

Hector took a moment to stare at his glass, before looking back to the group.  "At least a double.  I counted no fewer than four stammers..."  He downed his glass, then poured them both another one as he watched the woman reply in so elegant a fashion.  "Yeah, lets stick with double.  If we want to even keep up with this, we're going to have to skip a few I think..."  With that said, he downed the second glass as well, and continued to watch for Duran's reaction.

"Or start pouring less..."  Oriana dutifully drains the second glass as well, just to keep pace.  "Hell, if this keeps up, just pass the bottle."

Like a womprat caught in the headlights of a speeder his eyes follow her hand, through the flourish and down to the zip, his head drops with the zip, each little tug causing his head to jerk a little, until he spots the nestled weapon.

Something fairly safe to focus on, at least it seems, the weapon leaves its comfy storage and his eyes follow the tassel down just long enough to process what, or how little she was wearing. His eyes snapped so rapidly upward that it looked like he was in danger of hurting himself as he focused on the smaller lightsaber with the intensity of a starving man on a morsal of food.

His colour was enough to prompt the scoundrels to down another drink as he looked at it and managed,"Helene....that's pretty....the lightsaber I mean...the names pretty too....."

He glanced at the saber and tried again,"That's very small...it's not a normal one is it?" He lifted his hand, as though to try and touch it and hesitated, he knew how he would feel if someone wanted to look at his lightsaber, no doubt this counted double for someone who had may have seemed to be saying a few things about the size of your....assets?

"Can I have a look? That's not standard manufacture...who trained you? That doesn't look like anything I've seen before...." Her first question seemed to have been totally missed in his embarrassment.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:40, Mon 25 June 2012.

"This is called, a Lightfoil. This particular one has been in my family for nearly one thousand years, possibly even longer. No one has made weapons quite like this one for several hundreds of years, though I suppose the best Jedi and Sith artisans could probably create one if they were of a mind to do so."

Then, she sets the device in his hand. It fits his palm, but only barely, with a mere millimeter or two between the edge of his hand and the butt of the weapon. It's clearly meant for precision work, the angled shape of the casing opening up the full range of motion for his hand.

Of course, the metal casing is comfortably warm in his hand already...

"Well, someone's getting an education tonight," Oriana murmurs, fighting valiantly to not snicker in the process.  She glances at the bottle on the table, and the meager amount of brandy left within, pursing her lips slightly and emitting a thoughtful noise.  Without hesitation, she reaches over and grabs the open bottle to empty it into Eve's glass to neatly finish it off, just in case the elder Terrachova manages to rip her attention away from the holoscreen enough to drink it.

Still keeping her eyes on the action across the room, she delves into the case and deftly removes not one, but two bottles.  She pops the top off of one, and hands it to Hector, before cracking open the second as well and reaching over to clink the bottles together.

One of her trademark grins flits across her face slightly in advance of the bottle reaching her lips, and she teases, "We may regret this in the morning," before downing a pair of swallows of the liquor within.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:02, Mon 25 June 2012.

Perhaps strangly, depending on how well you knew the Jedi and his minor obsession with electronic toys, for the first time he wasn't blushing or stammering, although the warmth triggered things he'd rather not think about for the first time she had his complete and focused attention,

He cradled the lightfoil in his hand like it was something precious, something that needed to be treated with great respect, not even her flight suits lowered zip was going to distract him from this. He tilted it and angled it and looked up, a very happy smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye,"A thousand years you say? This thing must have a very rich history...how does it handle? Which forms do you normall use with it? Makashai would work...."

He grinned at her, his face lit up,"I would give just about anything to see you use it...." He glanced over at the others briefly and frowned, that might not work,"I suppose, I better stick to business though." With rather evident reluctance he handed it back to her, his eyes lifting straight to hers without even a hesitation at the lowered zip,"So, did your family train you in the use of the force as well? Or do you follow one of the other traditions?"

He wished Shanda was here, she'd know the history part of things and whether this made it more or less likely that this woman was a Sith but he didn't sense the darkside on her and she hadn't got angry yet, and he had done some stupid things in a short space of time. His face reddened, no he wasn't going there again, focus on the lightfoil.

Hector was not so successful in fighting his urge to snicker.  Yes, Oriana was correct.  "In hindsight, it may have been a bad idea to bring the Padawan to Port Nowhere," he said, accepting the freshly opened bottle from Oriana.  He didn't waste any time downing a couple mouthfuls for good measure, before looking back at the two. "Although you won't hear me say it wasn't worth it." It was pretty clear that the woman was almost playing with Duran - not that it would be hard to do of course, but it did make things interesting.

"We may," Hector agreed, nodding.  "But I say live in the moment.  I think you'll agree that life is more fun when you ignore the consequences and just jump in with both feet," he said, giving her a wink before he turned back to the show.

Helene laughs, shaking her head slightly and returning his smile, though hers is more subdued. She accepts her weapon with a small bow of her head, shifting it readily into the proper grip, before resting her hand upon her other, neatly positioned in her lap.

"I have had many teachers, in a lot of subjects. But first, Duran of the Jedi, you will take a turn answering my questions. For starters, how does a Jedi Padawan find himself literally in the middle of Nowhere? Your masters business must be important."

Of course, she hadn't really offered all that much information, but at least she hadn't slapped him or something... yet.

Duran sighed, gesturing at the drink in front of her,"Corillian Brandy, I have an experts opinion that it's good. I don't normally drink alone...have some. I have a whole bottle I didn't pay for."

She was laughing and seemed fairly kind but neither of them had answered any questions, she was just better at guessing,"Well, Helene, seems you have learned more without me answering your questions than I have without you answering my questions...still I suppose we have to start somewhere."

Now that most of the embarrassment was out of the way he seemed almost normal, almost confident, although he was sure a mistake was waiting just around the corner to catch him,"Well, I suppose it's only fair to say I was dragged here by a the group of scoundrels over there. I have no idea where we are, other than a name, or how to get back here if for some reason I decided I want to...."

He smiled over at Hector and Oriana,"So, that's the first question answered. Your turn, what tradition of force use do you follow?"
[Private to Dame Helene Decrilla: In the event you do lie ;) Please let me know so I can roll, otherwise I'm just going to RP it, fun!]

"Don't we always, Shado an Azalus?" Oriana flashes a brilliant grin up at Hector, punctuating her agreement with a wink of her own.  She pauses, catching herself in the process of lifting the bottle to her lips almost by reflex, before she realizes that Duran has neither stammered, nor blushed again just yet.

She does, however, catch him smiling in their direction, to which she promptly replies by lifting her bottle slightly and nodding.  "I'm going to be disappointed, and pretty impressed, if he's gotten a rein on himself this fast," she murmurs under her breath, resting her bottle on her thigh and relaxing for the moment.

A slow grin manifests upon the womans face, making it known in no uncertain terms that she was starting to have fun now.

"I've been taught fragments of no less than four different traditions, and pieced together the rest in my own way," she answers him plainly, though she hasn't volunteered anything specific he didn't ask for, either. She picks up the brandy, leaving her weapon in her hand, and that hand in her lap, but doesn't drink yet.

"I'm going to assume then, that no one at that table is your master. In that case, you're here as a result of your trials, aren't you?" Then, she takes a drink, if one could call the demure sip she swallows, a drink.

He watched her grin grow with a slight rise in his concern, something about it made him worried, her words made him relax, a little,"Four traditions? All by the same master or four different masters? Or should I rather call them tutors."

She seemed very informed about the Jedi way of things, but they weren't exactly top secret. He nodded to her question,"Yes, this is part of my trials...not sure if surviving a drinking spree with my new found companions was on my masters list of things to do...but here I am...and here is the drink."

He took another large sip, watching her wet her lips and nothing else,"So you don't trust me? Or do you always drink like that?" He shrugged,"I'm a Jedi I'm not going to....you know..."

His face flushed again, why had he tried to reassure her,"Get you drunk or anything..more likley to be the other way aro......" He stopped himself by inserting more drink, perhaps not the wisest of moves.

"More than four different tutors, actually. Some of them or the same traditions as others, of course, and some of them with abilities I have yet to see employed by either Jedi or Sith," she replies, supplying just a hint of information that was not the direct answer to his question.

"I don't normally drink alcohol of any sort, and if you haven't noticed Duran, I am rather a bit smaller than you," she adds, before taking another small sip of the brandy. This was of course, self evident: if Helene was more than a meter and a half tall, it was because she was in high heeled shoes.

Pondering her next question more carefully, Helene pauses a moment. Then she asks, "How many times have you been drunk before?"

She was playing with words, he was really bad at that, but she was at least not Sith, or at least that was how he understood it. Perhaps he needed to be more direct about his questioning,"Name the four traditions, please?" There that should be easy enough for him to understand.

He nodded at her mention of size,"About twenty centimeters shorter, I noticed, it gives you less reach but your weapon means you're more likely to try and slide in under my normal attack height anyway....what does that have to do with drinking?" He was a little confused, not sure where she was going with this as he filled up his fourth glass, this drinking stuff wasn't so bad. It was starting to taste pretty good.

His eyebrow scooted up at her next question, they were going personal now? Interesting, he wondered why? He shrugged, looking into the glass again,"Never, and yourself?"

She laughs again, more loudly.

"You silly man, alcohol is a poison you know. It takes less of it to affect smaller people, and if you've never been drunk before, you should slow down. You can make yourself sick."

She peers at him for a long moment then, leaning forward slightly with her eyebrows upraised as if to drive home her point, or perhaps daring him to challenge her assertion. Then she answers his question, "Most of my training has been from Sith, then Jedi, then that woman you saw me speaking to earlier, and more recently I've been investigating some of the variant concepts used by the Tyia."

Leaning back into her chair more properly, which is to say, assuming her previously upright posture, she inquires, "Let's back track a bit, shall we? Just what do your trials consist of that you ended up here?"

He peered at her as she leaned forward, somehow that made him uncomfortable, he liked it better when she was on her side of the table. Her words though made him frown, for a moment it looked like he was going to lift the glass and drink again and then he sighed, this was not the time to see how had the stronger will.

With a sigh he pushed the glass aside, capping the bottle,"Happy?" He considered her traditions, wincing a little when she spoke about the Sith,"And so which of the traditions do you follow? I presume none of the ones you've abandonded half way?"

The last one made him blink, and frown, and then look at her,"Who, or what, are the Tyia?" He was pleased when she backed off, sort of, he shrugged as she asked him to backtrack.

He pondered for a moment,"We were sent to investigate a disturbance in the force. It was rather complicated when we got there, I'm not really allowed to talk about the details though, and so we came here to send a message for a little...clarity."

The pair seated at the other table quietly make their exit, with the boy closing the case and taking it with him.  They immediately turn a corner around the entrance to the restaurant and get themselves out of line of sight.

Additionally, the waitress comes back out from the kitchen area with Eve's appetizer.  She grins with delight as it is placed on the table and she eagerly begins devouring the stuff.  Basically starch covered in salted dairy byproduct.

Her focus is only momentarily pulled away from the game, and when she looks back, something distressing has clearly happened.  With a mouth full of food and booze, she bolts up to a standing position and begins loudly dispairaging out one of the players.  She dips in and out of Basic, Huttese, and unintelligibility.

"There's no need to be snippy, Duran. It takes half an hour to an hour or so for the booze to hit your system, so the ideal way to drink is to space it out so you have a pleasant sensation for the whole time. Like this," she says, sipping at her glass again.

"As for the Tyia, it's a small pacifist tradition. The main thing for them seems to be the difference in the way they observe the Force. The Jedi and Sith alike speak of the Force as an energy field, yes? It grants us our powers, and reacts to our thoughts and feelings. The Tyia have noted, though, that it flows and moves much like air does, and that it can be flowing normally, in what they call Harmony, what you and I know as the Light, or that it can be turbulent, what we'd call the Dark. I've already gained some of their skill at stifling Dissonance, countering the powers of the Dark Side, by meditating on this concept."

She grins at him, a touch smugly, and sips at her glass again. If she's been reading him right, this next question will set him even further at ease.

"What is this gadget suit of yours? Here I thought that I enjoy my toys too much," she says, smirking impishly.

She seemed to answer truthfully, but she also chose not to answer a lot of questions, and he wasn't an idiot he noticed these things. Although her comments on stifling and countering the Dark Side made him smile a little.

Her smug grin, though, made him smile, he wondered when she was going to spring the big surprise, she was very good at this but he wasn't stupid...or at least the force wasn't,"Hmmm, you keep skipping questions but you don't seem to lie outright...so I'll try again. What tradition do you follow? Not the Sith I assume?"

She was right though, he had forced himself to answer the question but his eyes were already wondering to the computer on her arm and he couldn't help but ask,"That's a computer bracer right? I've always wanted one of my own....although I'm shocking with computers. Main reason I never got one...well since we're comparing toys."

Hector would have pointed out that this could have meant more than one thing but Duran was happily oblivious as he pointed to his current favourite object,"This is a personal translator, it's hooked up to an earpiece so I can use it in conjunction with my commlink, got it encrypted, got a pocket scrambler as well and a few other things that you'd find in a utility belt but it's the boots that I should show you...."

He grinned, knowing she was trying to get him talking, and shook his head,"You are good at this, but to show you the boots we'd need to go somewhere with a high ceiling, a wall and no spectators...." He chuckled,"The Force only knows what my friends would think....."

Actually he suspected he knew and his face flushed red for a moment before he looked at her a twinkle in his eye,"I"d love to see their faces but they might chase after me.....hmmm, how long did you say it took for the drink to take effect? Does it make a difference if you haven't eaten?" He was feeling very relaxed, and comfortable.

Helene starts laughing roughly in the middle of his long spiel, though she makes some effort to subdue it down into the realm of a simple giggle.

"You ask so many questions at once, while I only ask one, so of course I answer the one that I find most agreeable. If you're really going to be hung up on that one, though, you should know I've implied the only answer I can give you, which is that I don't follow any single tradition, at all."

"Eating food first slows down the alcohol, yes, and as for your friends, I know a much better way to get a rise out of them," she says, sliding to her feet. Swaggering around the table, she sets her Lightfoil onto it in front of Duran, and then places that hand on his shoulder. Then, with a graceful turn, she drops directly into his lap.

Presenting her arm laden with electronics for inspection, she starts going into some of its particulars, "My father bought this for me, for my birthday, a number of years ago. It started life as two separate devices, a datapad and a comlink with a video screen."

He had something clever to say about her implications, he had something clever to say he was sure of it but her words sent warning bells off in his mind and he was still trying to decipher them as she walked around the table. Maybe she was going to hold his hand while they walked off, that would have them guessing.

He was about to start standing when her hand touched his shoulder, her lightfoil hit the table and his eyes followed it as he tried to work out if he was supposed to be reaching for his own to defend himself when she spun, he was a warrior, a living weapon and he knew it was not an attack....at least not one that he needed to defend himself against...surely?

And then his arms, and lap were filled with warm, scented and bejewelled woman and a part of his mind that years of meditation and training had kept well under control leapt out from under it's restrictions and started to do a very vigorous set of back flips in his mind.

His eyes latched onto the first safe thing they could find, the computer as his mind struggled to find the right thing to do, to say, to think about. His mouth dropped open, then closed, his face looked like someone had boiled it turning it bright red and his eyes flickered with panic, all remnants of his 'relaxation' and 'calm' gone in the blink of an eye as he managed to squeak, low enough that she could only hear,"I think holding hands would have been fine....."

He was rigid, his arms straight down at his side and his eyes fixed on the computer screen but it took no training whatsoever to determine that whatever she was saying was going in the ears and leaving via the emergency exit on the other side.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:24, Tue 26 June 2012.

As much fun as the original idea had been, their drinking game had ceased to be sufficient entertainment several minutes ago - right around the time Duran started conversing coherently, instead of blushing every other word.  With Eve's attention firmly set on the GalaxyWar match on the holoscreen, and their young Jedi charge exploring the inherent dangers of strange women elsewhere, the scoundrels had long since turned their attention to the only logical source of entertainment at hand: each other.

Even the most proper of couples would start to think twice about the boundaries of acceptable public behavior after imbibing nearly half a bottle of fine Corellian brandy apiece, and Oriana and Hector were many things, but proper wasn't one of them.  Pair that with the rare sense of security offered by Port Nowhere, the nearly-empty diner, and the fact that they simply hadn't had the time before, and it's perfectly understandable that they're far too busy making out with each other to be paying any attention at all by the time of the woman's calculated ploy to get a rise out of them.

Or at least Oriana is.

Helene chortles to herself as she realizes that her new seat cushion just had the majority of its cerebral functions short circuit.

"Well, you have two choices then. You can either relax a bit, since it's not like I bite or something, and I'll show you how to properly enjoy a womans company, OR, I'll get up, and you'll take me over to introduce me to your friends," she informs him, mirth adding something of a musical lilt to her voice.

"Which will it be?"

It was unfortunate that the Jedi had become so... proficient at dealing with this woman, although had Hector still been watching, that opinion would have quickly been redacted.  However, as with Oriana (and quite clearly due to her presence), he had been occupied for the past few minutes.

Of course, his motivations were a little different - beyond the obvious.  Eve's distraction didn't matter much, ass she had been enjoying her time around Duran the whole evening; why shouldn't Hector then enjoy his time with Oriana?  Adding to that, he had caught the tail end of the conversation between Duran and his lady-friend.  Therefor, in part, making out with Oriana could be taken as a counter-play.

The only side effect was that the drinking game had been forgotten.  That was probably for the best though.

Duran's brain was slowly coming online, or at least some parts of it were, her words seemed to strike something that may at one time been a fully functioning human brain and he glanced over at Hector and Oriana.

They were kissing.....

There was a slight lurch as Helene's seat cushion moved, very awkwardly, for Helene it was like he had just lit up a huge sign above his head and forewarned her of his very awkward intentions as he sort of shoved his head forward, his eyes shut and lips puckered like some species of alien and managed to make contact with the area just left of her mouth in something that most people wouldn't even consider a kiss on the cheek, never mind the eternal life long commitment that a semi-drunk idealistic Jedi might..well maybe not eternal or life long.

Drawing back he did good job of impersonating the cherry red glow of an overheated blaster rifle and stuttered,"Per...haps...maybe....let's go see my friends......please."

Almost in direct contrast to what his mouth was saying his arms finally lifted, one around her back, trying to find somewhere comfortable, and the other lifting and dropping over her legs as he sighed and for the third time in less than eight hours he said, almost to himself,"Crap, I'm being stupid again."

Helene manages to not sputter as she attempts to restrain her laughter, but succeeds at little else.

"Easy, easy," she manages to chortle out, patting him on the chest lightly, "Don't get too excited. I may have chosen my words just to see how much you'd spazz out, but you'd have a whole lot more work to do if you wanted me in your bed tonight or something. So relax."

Then she turns her head and peers over at Oriana and Hector briefly, before returning her attention to Duran. "Well, you're not being stupid, but your sheltered Jedi lifestyle is coming through loud and clear. Come on, let's go meet your friends."

Reaching down with her free hand, Helene takes hold of his before sliding out of his lap with a twirl.

It was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over his head, he gaped and stammered just like before but somewhere deep inside was a really conservative Twi'lek master saying,"Told you so!"

I may have chosen my words just to see how much you'd spazz out

She took his hand, his face still slack and unresponsive as she stood and twirled.

you'd have a whole lot more work to do if you wanted me in your bed tonight or something

When she came to the end of the twirl, expecting resistance there was none, with a grace that indicated that, contrary to popular opinion, he was in fact a highly trained warrior, acrobat and Jedi. He surged out of the chair, crossing the distance between them and putting her slightly off balance as he was suddenly right there.

In what looked like a very demonstrative move of affection he swept her up in his arms, pulling her face to face, pulling her close he looked down at her. His eyes glittering, and it was not with desire, but conflict as he breathed deeply,"Do...not...play...with...me."

It sounded almost angry but then he closed his eyes and finished,"Please?" His eyes opened again and he realised how close he was and he shook his head, for now deciding to have this out,"You are the first woman I've even tried to kiss, I couldn't find my way to your bedroom with a map....."

He flushed at that, and shook his head his arms unwrapping as he disengaged shaking his head,"Hector would say I'm not ready for someone like you...and I think he's right...he'll like you." He turned, now taking the lead as he started to head to the table, a grim look on his face, but he hadn't let go of her hand.

Helene laughs again, "That's better."

She refuses to budge, however, until they've collected everything from the table. Her Lightfoil is collected with a spinning flourish before being clipped to her belt, in what is clearly a practiced motion. Her own glass, albeit provided by Duran, resides between her thumb and forefinger while her other fingers grasp the brandy bottle by its top. She leaves his glass for him to carry, though.

"So, did they put you up to this, or was this your own idea?" she inquires of Duran quietly as they head over to interrupt Hector and Oriana.

((OOC: To speed things along to the table I am going to post once more...with Ori's permission.))

Her reaction puzzled him, and he doubted that was going to be unusual, although for a moment he thought she was laughing at him. He of course had forgotten about the stuff on the table and had to go back and collect his own glass.

He shook his head at her question,"My idea, of course! Only I think I'm going to be able to get information out of the attractive force user without making things terribly more complicated than they have to be....apparently you're not supposed to stick your nose into other people's business around here."

He made his way up to the table, still holding hands, and flushed a little as he cleared his throat,"Hector, Oriana sorry to bother you...again, but I think you might like to meet someone...." He looked over at Eve, a little unsure whether to include her or not but decided to simply smile as he said,"This, is Helene....."

He stopped there and let out a rueful chuckle,"Ummmm, well I'd say more but I didn't ask about anything other than her training...I'm sure she has a last name too."

Helene does her best impression of a curtsey, given that she lacks a skirt and her hands full.

"Decrilla. A pleasure to meet you, though I must apologize for interrupting you. I was starting to fear I might break the of head your friend here, but it's just so easy to get him worked up," she says with a diabolically impish grin.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:31, Thu 28 June 2012.

The sudden movement of Helene and Duran rising had caught Oriana's attention out of the corner of her eye, but once she'd realized they were headed back to the scoundrels' table, she'd elected to continue with her current activities until they got there.  Oh, if asked, she'd say it was because she was selfish and not inclined to cut her own pleasure short just to be polite, but in truth she also found it amusing to confront the Jedi with these little awkward situations, just to see what he would do.

At the vocalization of their names, however, Oriana finally cracks open one eye and glances up at the Jedi and his newfound companion standing at the end of the table.  Duran's blush doesn't fail to disappoint, and to continue milking the moment, she rather deliberately kisses Hector one more time before reluctantly pulling her lips away.  Even then, she seems distracted, taking her sweet time when it comes to disengaging her hand from the back of his neck, by way of slowly trailing her fingers along the edge of his jaw from ear to chin before they fall away - an act which prompts Oriana to favor Hector with a brilliantly amused smile.

Then, and only then, does she turn her attention fully to the pair at the end of the table.  Normally, this is where she would be reaching for her glasses to tug them down and peer over them, if they weren't sitting next to the abandoned bottles of brandy.  Instead, Oriana lets her eyes wander openly over the pair, taking full note of their adorable hand-holding, although her eyebrow creeps up the tiniest bit at the woman's curtsey.  Eventually, she flashes her trademark grin at the both of them, fighting the urge to laugh out loud at the woman's accurate assessment of Duran.  "Pleasure to meet you, Helene," she offers, inclining her head politely.

What Helene had said was so very true, if his reaction in the cockpit was anything for her to judge by.

Despite the arrival of the others, Oriana has no intention of adjusting her position unless Hector indicates a desire for her to do so.  After all, she's perfectly comfortable, and the brandy is within reach.  So, she remains tucked up against his side with one leg crossed not only over her own, but draped over his knee as well.  It's a fair question as to whether or not she's doing it for her own comfort, or just to continue throwing Duran off-balance.  Probably a bit of both.

Eve watches the final moments of the game come to a close.  She's none too pleased with the outcome, and slouches with her arms folded.  It seems to take her a moment to note what's transpired in the rest of the establishment.  "Whoa, hey there, lovebirds!" she says, laughing.  Then, as she notices Duran returning with Helene, her expression turns a faux sour.  "And what are you doing, young Jedi?"

By the time Duran and Helene approached the table, Hector was even less aware of it than Oriana, entirely because of Oriana no less.  Not that he could be blamed for being inattentive to all but her.  Eventually though - only about when Oriana decided to pull away - he clued in to the appearance of Duran and Helene, as well as Eve's return to the table.  Returning Oriana's grin, he kept eyes on her only until she turned to Helene, at which point Hector looked to Eve and offered her a shrug as if to say, "I'm allowed to have fun too".  He figured it was all fair, given how she'd been acting with Duran earlier.

"Hector Terrachova," he said, once Oriana had introduced herself.  He offered his free hand to shake, if the woman was open to such forms of greeting.  He was, of course, perfectly fine with Oriana's choice of sitting position. "Helene Decrilla.  You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into with my boy Duran here, although I'm sure you're beginning to get an idea.  Enjoy yourself, because it probably won't last at this rate." By 'it', Hector was referring to the sheltered Jedi's innocence, that part of him that made him so easy to screw around with.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:28, Thu 28 June 2012.

Duran, unsurprisingly, flushed as Helene introduced herself and embarrassed him in one easy move, he suspected that with his current state as part of a team with Hector and Oriana he might as well get used to being in a state of semi-permanent blush.

Oriana's little show had him moving from foot to foot, looking all over and alternating between frowning, blushing and shaking his head he had this overwhelming urge to do something to upset her little act, and several ideas crossed his mind but right now he had bigger things to deal with than her languorous display of affection, which he was sure she was allowed to do, the biggest of these things was convincing himself that letting go of Helene's hand would not in fact be some kind of lose, he never really managed to convince himself to let go though.

Eve, of course, made him blush, she was a Terrachova, and his mouth fell open and he stammered something out, he was trying almost too hard really,"Ummm...Ms Terrachova...Ma'am....ummm....just being...friendly....ummm....with the...locals...Ma'am." He glanced down, his boots suddenly very interesting as he dealt with his current predicament, namely the umpteenth time he turned crimson today.

His eyes snapped up as Hector spoke, the words just didn't make sense right now, what was with the paternal wording? My boy? Was Hector trying to be cute or what? What wouldn't last? The drunken state? The fact that Duran was holding her hand?

He didn't know and the introductions were finally over. With a sigh he let go of her hand for the last time and started busily dragging over another chair for her to use, the fact that Oriana's chair and his old chair were open never occurred to him...they were too far apart.

Finally he had a chair next to his and he sat down, looking up at Helene with half-smile, not really sure how to get her to sit down without looking like an idiot. She could figure out the chair was for her, couldn't she?

Oriana laughs, not so much at any one in particular, but at the combination of Eve's admonition, Hector's teasing, and poor Duran's explanation all rolled together.  And of course, since the poor Jedi is blushing again, she can't help but retrieve her bottle of brandy and take a swallow.  Whether this was because the game is still going, or simply out of reflex is anyone's guess - even she might not be quite certain.

Catching Duran's somewhat sheepish half-smile, she shakes her head a little and decides to help the poor boy out.  Tossing a smile in Helene's direction, Oriana gestures towards the newly-appeared chair with the bottle in her hand.  "Have a seat and join us."

Despite the typically drunken gesture, Oriana's speech is clear enough to say that she's perhaps just this side of slightly inebriated, at best.  For now.

Helenes eyebrow quirks as she quietly watches the scene play out in front of her. When Duran releases her hand, she takes Hectors, her own palm down at first, but if he meant for them to shake, she adapts to that quickly enough. When Oriana at last invites her to sit, she does so, setting the glass and bottle on the booths table before ritually smoothing her clothing and assuming her proper posture.

"Thank you. Do they serve food here? Anybody else hungry?"

The waitress comes back again after cleaning the other table, ostensibly assuming Helene's droid is not going to eat any of the rest of it.  Noting Helene's presence, she asks if there is anything else anyone would like.

Eve offers to shake the newcomer's hand as well, introducing herself simply as 'Eve.'  "What brings you to our mobile corner of the galaxy?" she asks, folding her arms on the table and leaning over them.

Helene requests a menu from the waitress, and of course shakes Eves hand as well.

"Oh, I was just chasing down an old acquaintance. Her son is nearly a man now, and I had gifts for him. I haven't quite figured out where I'm headed next, though our Padawan friend here has certainly caught my attention," she says, smirking at Duran.

"Mrm, I almost forgot," she then adds, primarily to herself, before turning about slightly in her chair at snapping her fingers at the droid.

GiGi comes back to life in visible stages, standing up straight then running through a simple series of motions that establish all of her limbs are attached and working, before she swivels her head around in confusion. Spotting the group, she ambles towards the table.

"Oh, terribly sorry... I seem to have suffered a minor malfunction."

"No, I shut you off. Unless you meant the hysterics," Helene informs the droid flatly.

"Go collect my things, will you? I assume you took them off the ship before it left?"

GiGi gestures as if she's about to raise a counterpoint, but thinks better of it.

"Of course, my lady," she replies instead, and turns to amble off.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:57, Thu 28 June 2012.

"And that's GiGi. She's a bit emotional for a droid, but she's served my family well for a long time now," Helene explains, her smirk broadening just a bit.

An Adascorp hospitality droid.  That's interesting.  Why would she be traveling with a hospitality droid?  They certainly weren't any good as protection, not that someone that carried a - well, it looked like a lightsaber to Oriana - would need a droid for protection.  And then there was the curtsey, and the way the woman sat so primly.  Clearly she was someone important, or pretending to be.  Perhaps the droid was part of the act?  Oriana was fond of droids, but she just couldn't think of anything a hospitality droid could do that couldn't be done better by something that was less hassle... save fetch and carry.

Which, of course, Helene promptly sends the droid to do.  Oh boy.

Oriana's mental meanderings cause her to frown slightly, her fingertip pausing in the midst of circling the top of the bottle of brandy currently carefully balanced on her thigh.  For a moment she debates whether or not to let her curiosity get the better of her, but it doesn't take long before she decides to give in.  There have been entirely too many surprises on this trip already.

"Adascorp droids have that tendency, I've heard.  Forgive me for asking, but why bring one along, just for a delivery run?"

Helene snickers, "I actually haven't been home for several years, and when I left, I'd left her with the rest of my family. Clever wench located my travel manifest, and booked passage following me on my bank account. It's been more practical to keep her on hand. And with her upgraded translator unit, she's come in handy a few times."

Sipping at her brandy and passing her gaze back over the menu, Helene adds, "You must be good with droids. Most of Adascorps units were returned, in various states of uh, non standard disablement, after the whole incident with their spying protocols."

Duran watches as Helene sits, his face fell a little, he looked a little crestfallen really, when she didn't immediatly snatch up his hand but he brightened when they spoke about food. He for one had just been told that it was bad to drink on an empty stomach. He ordered some food when the waitress came past, but remained quite as he listened to the girls talk.

Listened was perhaps the wrong word, through the slowly building fog of alcohol he sat trying to work through what had happened and how he felt about it all. Helene spoke then, mentioning how he had caught his attention and dutifully blushed, looking down as he tried to work that through, she was most likley only kidding.

She had climbed in his lap to get a rise out of Hector and Oriana, not that they had even noticed, she wasn't really interested. He of course had attempted to kiss her...and what was up with the little dance move. What had he been thinking?

He flushed again at his own thoughts, his hand sliding up and down his leg as he thought about what a fool he had made of himself. His master would have plenty to say about that. He looked up briefly to catch the interchange about the droid before looking down and trying to think again. His fingers scrunching up into a fist a moment as he considered how long he'd be the butt of Hector's jokes.

Shaking his head for a moment he looked up at his empty glass...perhaps that wasn't such a good idea? Bah, it couldn't be that bad, Oriana had drunk about half a bottle and she was much smaller than him. Nodding to himself he took hold of the bottle that Helene had brought across and filled his glass before looking at the others,"Refill anyone?"

Years of training with a difficult master had made him very good at excusing himself for faults, sometimes before they happened, so of course he looked at Helene and said,"The food should be here soon." That should keep her happy that he wasn't going to drink to fast or on an empty stomach.

The waittress provides Helene a menu from a pocket in the apron about her waist.

Eve accepts Duran's offer for the refill, though she hasn't partaken of nearly as much.  She checks something on her own bracer datapad, probably just the time, given how briefly her attention is diverted, and keeps sipping at her drink.  "No offense, but you don't look the type who'd have friends here, Helene.  And they sure left in a hurry.  Everything working out all right?" she asks, her voice weighted with a bit of concern.

Helenes face betrays that she's choosing her words very carefully, "I don't think I would ever claim Isabel is my friend. It's a long and scandalous story that I haven't had nearly enough brandy to tell just yet."

"Besides," she adds while reaching over to tease her fingers along Durans Padawan braid, "I get the sense your stories are far more interesting than my old baggage."

Duran topped up Eve, and put the bottle down before sitting back, sipping at his drink, still looking mostly at the table top as he slowly worked himself into a position were he was almost convinced that he had been a total fool.

Then she touched him. Well his braid, to be more precise. He shuddered a little at the unexpected contact before going bright read and looking up at her looking a little shocked, only half her words actually sinking in, he glanced at her glass, having caught something about not enough brandy and leaned forward, careful with his braid to grab the bottle again and top up her glass.

His eyes flicked to her, not ready to move in case she let go, or did something else and not sure how to react to the strange show of...well what? Affection? Interest?

He glanced across at Oriana and Hector, looking for some sign, some indication how to deal with this and of course to see if they were laughing at him....again.

"They might just be," says Eve, referring to the stories.  The smuggler sits back again, relaxing.  "But you'll have to accept merely those of the young ones here.  I need to get going," she says, rolling her head around to ease some of the tension in her neck, which results in a series of small popping sounds from her older skeleton's resistance to the endeavor.

"Well, the thing is, I've already told my share of stories on this trip," Hector said, downing the last of his glass.  "Thus, I'm gonna leave it up to Duran here if you're looking for a story."  He grinned, and watched Helene for a moment as the menu was brought.  "I'm gonna be honest here, if what we had before doesn't qualify as food, you're gonna go hungry on Port Nowhere."

Helene waves farewell to Eve, then regards Hectors comment thoughtfully.

With a bit of effort, she manages to scoot her chair a few centimeters closer to Duran while she says, "Oh, I saw the cheesefries, but while that's a perfectly good snack, I was hoping for something more substantial and ya know, meaty."

Then she sets her hand to the back of Durans neck, making slightly firm circular motions along the part where it joins his shoulders, "And I think I've tormented Duran enough, and he didn't really even tell me anything that juicy. So, how about, I'll tell my story, brandy or not, and someone volunteers just what could be so messy about his Trials that you ended up here of all places seeking clarity?"

Something about that set off a warning bell in Oriana's head, and it's with some effort that she pours another bit of brandy into her glass and relinquishes her bottle to the table, dutifully capped and pushed aside.  "Eve?" she swivels her head around to smile at the older woman, having caught her declaration of intent to leave.  "It was nice meeting you.  Have a great night, and if you're still willing to come by first thing in the morning with your tools, that'd be wonderful.  If we're not up, just comm us."

For a moment after that, Oriana debates between her glass of brandy and the second platter of corntatoes on the table.  As much as she was used to running on liquor and adrenaline, something with substance in her belly was probably a good idea.  Unwilling to waste the food that was already in front of them, and not being particularly picky about the source of her sustenance, she leaves her glass untouched and scoots the plate to the edge of the table alongside it.

She pops a portion in her mouth and watches Helene and Duran thoughtfully while chewing, eventually nodding.  "I s'pose that's fair."

Duran raised an eyebrow at Hector's comment, not forgetting that Hector had promised him the story of his scar but clearly wasn't about to share that. Still red from her touch he had his attention drawn to the cheese things and reached over grabbing one and starting to eat between sips of his brandy.

Her hand moved again, to the back of his neck this time, the short hairs on the back of his neck proving to be rather sensitive where he shaved them clear of his collar and he reddened again. He was sure, from watching Hector and Oriana, that there was something he should be doing too....clearly she was either playing with him again or she was...well he wasn't sure, he had some kind of basic idea of what might be her final goal but he couldn't really even think about that without spontaneously combusting.

All he had were legends and storys and he wasn't sure that eternal love was what she was after. Heck, even he wasn't naive enough to believe that, what did she want? Surely she couldn't be trying to get him to like her...he wasn't allowed to.

Her next question threw him off, she was prying into their secret mission. With Eve leaving he had a chance to slip out from under Helene's hand, a moment of clear thought but as he moved out of her way he put his hand on Helene's shoulder, a moment of slight unsteadiness...possible the alcohol and glanced down.

Eve may have walked past, she may have said goodbye but he wasn't listening. Looking down from behind Helene he was reminded that she had pulled her zipper down to retrieve the light foil and left it there. Now he was above her the view was...well there was bombs going off inside of his stomach and lower regions and he had no idea what to do with them.

To Hector and Oriana he looked like some kind of pervert, staring down her shirt, face red and then there was motion. He slid along the bench all the way to the end, grabbing his glass and another section of the starchy food although he hardly tasted it as he stuffed it into his mouth just in time to choke on it as Oriana agreed to tell them about his mission.

A brief coughing fit later and he shook his head,"I thought..." He cleared his throat, still red from his 'educational' view,"We weren't supposed to tell anyone." Granted they had told Eve but she was Hector's mother, and he knew if they could trust her.

Helene snickers, "Oh, because that will make me less curious."

As Duran settles into his new seat in the booth proper, Helene gets up herself, leaving her glass on the table, and pushes the chairs a bit further out of the way. Then, she slides into the booth next to Duran, which has the side effect of trapping him in there unless he plans on doing something acrobatic or crawling beneath it.

"You are entirely too highly strung Duran," she says, slipping one arm over his shoulders and bringing her other hand to the front of his shoulder, where it continues a semblance of theoretically soothing circular motions. "I think that's enough brandy for you. Unless you're going to tell me you're always so fidgety, in which case you clearly haven't had enough."

Then she smiles up at him brightly, flashing him a quick wink if he looks at her while she's saying this.

Oriana watches all of this transpire with some amusement, even going so far as to pick up her glass and bury her nose in it to hide a grin, in the guise of taking another sip of brandy.  As humorous as the entire fiasco was, watching Duran get flustered when Helene touched him, it was rapidly approaching the point where she couldn't continue to find much amusement in it without feeling like it was no longer good-natured fun.

A faint sound of annoyance escapes her when she realizes she's going to have to relinquish her comfortable position in order to keep Helene and Duran in view at the far end of the opposite booth without having to crane her neck around.  Reluctantly withdrawing her leg from over Hector's knee, Oriana twists around slightly beneath his arm, careful to not spill any of her drink.  With minimal effort, she winds up in a similar position as before, only this time with the back of her shoulder to Hector's chest so that she can face the other side of the booth.

"Your story first.  Wasn't that the deal?"

Despite addressing Helene, Oriana locks her eyes on the Jedi's for a split-second as she asks this, while reaching back with her free arm and rather deliberately sliding her fingers beneath Hector's hair to curl around the nape of his neck.  [Private to Duran: For that split-second, Oriana's in Duran's head again just as clear as always despite her slightly inebriated state, radiating amusement, and genuine patience, and a good deal of inebriated contentment... "Relax, it's just a touch."]
This message was last edited by the player at 07:59, Fri 29 June 2012.

He rolled his eyes at Helene's comment about being less curious,"Not like you aren't already fishing...." He faded off as he suddenly realised there was no way out of the booth now...at least not ones he couldn't use without some serious creativity.

He closed his eyes for a moment as she put her arm over his shoulder, her body pressed against his, he could feel her warmth through the flight suit. He opened his eyes and looked at her as she spoke, the circles on his chest very distracting, but he sighed at her words.

His lips turn up a little at her wink, although he's not entirely sure why, she was far to good looking and charming for his own good, that he knew but it didn't stop it effecting him.

He glanced across at Oriana as she spoke, catching her eyes and it seemed to have some effect on him. He nodded, as though to himself, and took a deep breath. It was easy for her to say, she was used to these sort of things. Reaching up he caught the hand on his chest in his own, wrapping his longer calloused hands around her manicured nails to keep it still...when they didn't move they were easier to forget about, other than fidgeting, blushing and stammering he had one final coping mechanism that Oriana and Hector had seen....Sarcasm.

"Not the brandy....I'm allergic to redheads it seems...."

Then he turned to look at the attractive woman pressed against him, trying to focus on what he hoped was a story, and not some witty come back to have him uncomfortable, although he doubted there wouldn't be something to set him blushing...it didn't take much.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 14:22, Fri 29 June 2012.

Eve stands, bows, and says, "It's been a pleasure.  I will see you in...sixteen hours?"  With that she leaves, but not before stopping by the register to briefly accost the kitchen staff about something.  The way she points at the table and ends with a smile, it's safe to assume she's at least paid for the corntatoes, and perhaps anything else you order.

The bustle outside has actually calmed a bit.  Though it had just been twilight on Corellia, it might actually already be hitting the wee hours of "morning" here on the station.  The sounds of dish-cleaning in the deeper recesses of the restaurant's kitchen would seem to lend credence to that assumption.

Helene snickers, "So that's what that was? Should I remember to use less dye in the future?"

Her hand shifts, finagling its way through his fingers one at a time until they're laced together comfortably. At which point, her arm goes largely limp, so if he doesn't keep their hands up on his chest, they're liable to slide down into his lap. Next, she shifts a bit, rotating to better face Hector and Oriana, and takes a deep breath.

"So, Duran knows some of this already, but I'll start from the top, as they say. You've seen my Lightfoil, and I'm sure you've assumed or otherwise noticed that I have a stronger than average connection to the Force. I am, however, Tapani, which is not a member of the Republic just yet, and so I wasn't snatched up by the Jedi. No offense."

She gives Durans hand a gentle squeeze to indicate her sincerity, and then continues, "My family did their best to find tutors for me, but I was uh, a rather difficult student. Shocking thought, I know. At least until they hired a man named Kyle. Kyle was Isabels husband, the woman I was talking to at the other table, with their son, Derick. Only... Kyle never told me he was married. He kept them a secret, probably because he felt they would be safer, and also because he was afraid to tell me. By which I mean, that he didn't want to hurt me."

She takes another deep breath, closing her eyes a moment, and then opening as she continues, "When I eventually found out anyway, I... completely lost it. I can't even remember everything I said or did until I woke up in the infirmary, having been subdued by house guards. I vaguely recall the property damage as being somewhere in the area of twenty thousand credits or more, a good portion of which was my own bedroom. The bed, especially, I had somehow set on fire. And that's how my father found out I'd been with Kyle."

"Of course, he didn't know the whole story, and I was in no shape to tell him, between the drugs they'd given me and everything else. I don't remember even being aware of where we were going or what was happening until we pulled up in front of Kyles home, and the security team had dragged him forcibly out into the yard, where my father read the charges against him. I don't remember even hearing the words, either, it was only later that I came to understand that my father had assumed what I think any father would assume, that Kyle had raped me."

She takes one more deep breath, the exhale of which has a slightly shuddering quality to it, "And under our laws, I did what was my right to do. I executed him."

He felt a little more comfortable with her fingers twined in his, at least then he knew where they were and he was happy to keep them on his chest. Or at least he was while he remembered.

His mind took her story in, his emotions were trapped in the vice grip of Jedi training, he faltered from time to time, he got embarrassed but strong emotions were not easily entertained. It was why he was so easily embarrassed in the first place, not used to the ebb and flow of feelings that normal people took in their stride.

There was nothing normal about Helene's story, his mind picked at it like a scavanger bird but his heart swallowed it whole. Hook, line and sinker. No matter what Duran was an idealist, believed that the Jedi had a duty to protect others, no matter the cost. It's what had caused him to leap to the conclusion that he needed to protect Oriana from the predations of 'Hector' as Duran had understood it and it surged to the fore here as this woman exposed her life to him.

The image of a young woman finding out her lover was married, the rage that would logically follow and the unmitigated disaster that had followed. Leading to her having to execute her own lover, or face seeing him killed by another. The anger it must have filled her heart with to find out he was lying to her, to then have to kill him. It was almost incomprehensible for a man like Duran.

There was nothing in his life to prepare him for this, nothing to stop the overwhelming urge of protectiveness that flooded his soul. He straightened as the story hit home. His hand, and hers dropping into his lap forgotten completely as his mind tried to work out what this woman had suffered, how she had felt afterwards and what she must have done to harden her heart where she could now tell it to strangers without weeping.

Anyone with even the slightest bit of empathy noticed the change, his posture seemed to strengthen, the force seemed to grow within him Duran felt like he had a mission now. No evil in the world would harm this woman again if he had anything to do with it, it was the most intense feeling he had ever experienced and there was a burning desire to hold her close.

Perhaps he should have thought about it more, perhaps the brandy was effecting his judgement but his hand left hers, just long enough for him to put one arm over her shoulder, the other hand drop to reclaim the now abandoned hand and for the second time he pulled her close to him. He didn't say anything, he didn't need to, he was the force and the force flowed in him and around him and through him and into her.
[Private to Dame Helene Decrilla: Well, I suppose it counts as the telepathy use of the force on her but it's raw empathy and compassion and no actual thoughts. Enjoy.]

Helene retracts her arm that had been over his shoulders rather swiftly as he starts to shift and move, pulling it out of his way. Which works out well, for the wave of emotion Duran projects over her causes her to set her free hand over her own heart, in that way people who are touched emotionally are want to do.

It wouldn't be out of line to say that she's reeling for a moment, but she soon recovers, if the all but melted state she assumes next could be called a recovery. Though she has a significantly tighter lid on her feelings than Duran does, it doesn't take an empath to notice the way she slides into leaning against him, with small shifts and squirms until she's quite comfortable - a soft smile adorning her face.

"We're going to have to teach you how to keep a lid on that. Can't very well have you making girls swoon all over the place, you know," she quips at him, laughing.

"And don't think for a moment you're getting out of telling your story!"

Hector offered a half-wave to his mother as she stood to leave.  "Good seeing you again," he replied, speaking the only words that came to mind.  It was a rather casual way of saying goodbye after having met her for the first time in years, but it seemed fitting.

Having decided that one final glass of brandy was enough, Hector corked the bottle he had been drinking from, and focused on finishing off that glass while he listened to Helene's story.  It was interesting, to say the least; an exercise in another lifestyle.  He didn't really know much about Tapani society, although the story did convince him that he didn't need to - it seemed to be just like every other form of nobility he had encountered over the years.

"That's quite the story," he said, downing the last of his glass.  He could definitely feel the effects of all his drinking beginning to set in, but it hadn't yet robbed him of his faculties, nor his observational skills. "I find myself wondering though... when you exercised your right under the law, had you, at that point, remembered the truth of the situation?"
This message was last edited by the player at 08:11, Sat 30 June 2012.

Oriana had listened to Helene's story as intently as her slightly inebriated state would allow, and had still been processing the provided information when Duran's reaction took place.  To say that it had taken her by surprise would perhaps be an understatement.  She had been just about to respond to Helene's reminder about their story when Hector beat her to commenting.

With her glass paused halfway to her lips, Oriana freezes in place and blinks across the table at Duran, and by proximity also Helene, somewhat dumbfounded  She whistles softly, and tosses back the remainder of her brandy and sets the glass on the table, nodding the tiniest bit almost to herself.  "Right.  Well..." she interjects somewhat hastily, before Duran has a chance to catch the meaning behind Hector's question, despite the fact that she's just as interested in the answer.  The last thing she wants right now is the Jedi deciding that he needs to defend his new girlfriend's honor, especially after they'd all been getting along so well.

"Our story's not really all that impressive.  We were doing a little fetch-and-recon on Corellia, when half our team decided to hang a sharp left and fall off their karking rockers." She shrugs, as if this was a normal, everyday happening - a facade that's likely aided by the quantity of brandy in her system preventing her from grimacing in the way mentioning the ground team usually provokes.  "So we jumped off-system to call the boss and find out what they want us to do now... and here we are.  Duran can fill in the details about his Trials, though, much better than we can."

Oriana twists around to look at her partner in crime, lifting one eyebrow slightly and murmuring a few words of very hushed Huttese that ends on a questioning note. [Private to Hector Terrachova: "That might be something best left to them to discuss later.  Right now, I don't think he cares that she executed her former lover, do you?"] "Besides," she continues, switching smoothly back to a more conversational Basic, while tapping the center of Hector's chest with her fingertip.  "Someone owes me a pazaak rematch.  If you think you're up for it."  She punctuates this teasing with an inebriated grin, lifting an eyebrow and inclining her head slightly towards the exit.

Duran smiled down at Helene and shook his head,"You need not worry, that was quite focused...I wasn't broadcasting." He hardly needed to, but then at the moment he wasn't quite focused on exactly what his body language was showing, or telling.

He glanced across at Hector when he spoke, and beneath about four, or was it five, glasses of brandy someone agreed that was a good question. A very important question? The why currently eluded him as his logic tussled with the slipperiness of alcohol.

Then Oriana was speaking, telling their story...kind of. He raised an eyebrow at her saying he should fill in the details, but he wasn't paying attention he was trying to work out what about Hector's question had bothered him, he needed to think about it a bit...perhaps tomorrow when he wasn't so relaxed, and didn't have Helene against him...she was terribly distracting...made it hard to think.

And then Oriana was talking again and he frowned, damn he supposed it was getting late. He looked down at Helene and shrugged,"I suppose we should be getting back to the ship...maybe I...we can see you tomorrow morning?" There only one mistake, he had to say we....this was a group thing, not about him...he wasn't going to get attached...just make sure she was safe...that was fine wasn't it?

That was what Jedi were supposed to do.

If looks could kill, Hector would be flying apart at an atomic level, such is the glare Helene fixes him with in the moment following his question - but then, one could infer the answer as a result, couldn't they?

Her gaze swings over to Oriana as she starts speaking, and visibly softens as she lets Hectors comment go. When she begins addressing Hector in Huttese, Helene then turns her gaze up to Duran. Her jaw sets in the manner of a person whose instinct is to grind their teeth when they're angry, though she refrains from actually doing so as Duran inquires about the next morning.

"If you're not going to tell me the actual important part, you could at least tell me why you won't," she informs them, flatly, still looking up at Duran.

Turning her head back towards Oriana and Hector, she adds, "A change of venue, perhaps, if you're afraid to talk about it in public?" Though possibly directed at the scoundrels, by the end of this statement, she's looking at Duran again, albeit out of the corner of her eyes.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:47, Sat 30 June 2012.

At all the looks he was getting, Hector merely raised a hand in defense.  He was only asking the question he thought should be asked.  The man could hardly be called subtle, after all.  That said, he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut on the subject.  He didn't get an answer, although the response he did get was enough to give him one.

With a light sigh, he nodded at Oriana's words in Huttese, then sat up a little straighter, stretching out his back which didn't particularly like being moved out of its relaxed position.  "I think that can be arranged.  When it comes to Nar Shadaa rules, I play for keeps," he replied, grinning while he looked then to Duran. "What, and leave Helene here all by herself.  Oh no.  Not only did you get some time to rest on the way here in that turret of yours, but you still need to fill in the details of our story, as per the arrangement."

Making sure Oriana saw that he was going to move, Hector slid out of the booth and stretched again, before offering her a hand as a gentleman should. "Helene, please take care of Duran for us.  He's a smart kid, but... well, he's a little out of his element here in Port Nowhere.  Keep him outta trouble with the locals if you can."  He paused for a moment, then gave Helene his best formal bow.  "It was nice meeting you.  Perhaps if we're lucky, we'll meet again in the morning.  Now, if you'll excuse us, we have some intoxication to play, and some pazaak to walk off."

"I expect no less, although... what do you get to keep, mm?"  Oriana grins and takes Hector's hand, slipping out of the booth with a decent amount of grace in spite of the current state of her blood alcohol level.

Once on her feet, she turns to the others and smiles, tipping her head politely to the both of them in turn.  "Helene, it was nice running into you.  Duran..." She pauses here, seeming to remember something important all of the sudden.  Without releasing Hector's hand, she opens one of the many pockets on her belt with the other, feeling around for a moment and then withdrawing what looks like a small, and very pointy, screwdriver.  "You'll need this.  Bay fourteen, don't forget," she continues, scratching a short series of numbers into the corner of the case the brandy had come in.  Once done, she returns the tool to its home, and tears the corner off, passing it to Duran with a bit of a smirk.

"Don't lose that, because I'm not comin' to the door to open it."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:37, Sat 30 June 2012.

Helene snatches up the cardboard slip, and in one smooth gesture, flips it around so that the numbers are facing her, and slides it into her flight suit via the opening in front. Virtually glowing as she beams with a cat that got the canary grin, she inclines her head in lieu of a curtsy and says, "Oh, I'll be sure to keep both eyes on him for you. I'll even promise to have him back in your ship at a decent hour!"

She then turns that impishly smug grin on Duran, chortling to herself in delight.

Duran didn't see Helene's glare but he did see Hector's raised hand and the clenched jaw when Helene spoke to him next. He thought the idea of a private conversation about the various orders they had was a great idea...but that didn't turn out to be what the others had planned.

Duran couldn't help but feel he was missing something, why where they so eager to rush off and play Pazzak, no matter what the rules. Keeping? No he was missing something, but his eyes kept going back to Helene's jaw. Hector's question or their refusal to tell her details had upset her....oh he was going to tell her the details.

He nodded, that sounded fair, but they were leaving him alone...with her? Meeting, in the morning? But that meant the whole night with....no wait. Things were happening a little too fast for him right now. He watched as the cardboard slip was put down, he knew which bay there were in, the number must be to open the door for when he got tired...

He watched with some amazement as Helene's hand moved quickly, his own hand was already on the way, but then the slip was gone, his eyes following, the hand not to far behind but look where it went! Oh, that was not good...the hand paused as he looked up at Helene,"I'm going to need that......"

Ohhhhhh, that smile sent tingles down his spine.....

He cocked an eyebrow at her, good ones or warning ones? Tingles.

How much had he had to drink? Four glasses wasn't that much was it? He looked up at Oriana to see if she thought this was a good idea, wait she had suggested it. His mouth opened, then closed then opened again and his face slowly filled with colour as he looked at Helene's face and then where she had inserted the cardboard strip...could he grab it with the force?

Maybe not such a great idea, his hand lifted and one finger stroked Helene's jaw, that jaw, why had it clenched? Looking at Oriana and Hector he decided graceful surrender would be more likely to allow him room to manouvere in a little bit, then he could work out how to get those numbers,"Well, good night then, I'll come in as soon as we've chatted...and I've shown her my boots."

That was a good idea, a very good idea, he grinned at the two of them his hand leaving Helenes jaw and floating into his own lap as he smiled to himself.

"Exactly what I want to," Hector replied simply, letting Oriana decide what she thought he meant.  Just as he was about to leave, Hector remembered something, and turned back to the table.  He slid both half-empty bottles of brandy into the case, then looked to Helene and Duran.  He pulled out the more full bottle, set that on the table, then hefted the case in his free arm.

"Keep him out as long as you like," Hector replied. "See if you can get him to loosen up a bit.  In any case... ciao!" With that, he headed off with Oriana, choosing the most direct path back to the ship.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:29, Sun 01 July 2012.

"Yes, you are," Helene replies as Durans protests his need for the passcode, and then shifts in the booth to lay back against Duran more heavily. She takes his hand that was intertwined with hers and sets it on her abdomen, over the paper slip, before releasing his hand so that she can pull her zipper a couple centimeters up. The passcode thus secured, she sets both of her hands lazily atop Durans hand and settles in comfortably.

Peering up at Duran from this position involves tilting her head backwards a good amount, but she does it anyway and inquires, "So, how about we get a little food, we skip the rest of the brandy, and then start talking. With no more games. Sound like a deal?"

Duran is rather pleased she has her back to him, she can't see his face colour as she leans back and draws the zip up. The feeling of his hand on her stomach is strange, it felt possessive, but she had put it there. Almost like conferring ownership but that didn't make sense, he shook his head to himself just in time for her to catch it as she tilted her own head back.

Her arched throat only made her appear more vulnerable to his rather inebriated brain at the moment. He nodded at her words, glancing across at the brandy,"I think I've had enough...." Games too he thought.

Shaking his head again he said,"We can just collect the food we ordered...it should be ready by now." HE moved his fingers on her stomach and flushd,"You'll have to....umm...let me..umm get u...out of here though."

He was starting to feel a little trapped now that he was alone with her. With Oriana and Hector there he had felt....safer? Maybe.

As Hector starts off, Oriana flashes a grin in the poor hapless Jedi's direction, offering him a sympathetic shrug and a wave good-bye.  She manages a few backwards steps in the process, before she laughs exuberantly and spins around, falling easily into step alongside Hector.  "He is so in for a night..." she chuckles, as they disappear out into the drag.

"Now, what's this about playing for keeps, mm?"

"I sure hope he is... he's far too stiff for a guy his age," Hector replied, hefting the case a bit higher.  He chuckled, and made sure they were going the right way, before he continued talking. "It just means when there's stakes involved - whatever they might be, I play for real.  Although, playing for keeps could mean other things too.  Guess it depends what you want it to mean, hmm?" He flashed her a grin, and continued on.

"Mrm... no. Because if that's the food coming there, it's going to be set on the table in front of us, and we can just eat it here. We didn't ask for it to be packaged up to go, after all."

She hasn't budged, and if her relaxed posture and the somewhat tired tone of her voice is any indication, she has little intention of doing so right this minute. After a pause, though, she continues, "So how about, as our first topic of conversation without silly trust games, you tell me what's bothering you? You keep getting incredibly nervous and start stammering, amongst other things."

Oriana half-rolls her eyes and snorts, retorting easily, "The way she was looking at him, I'm not sure that's gonna be a problem."  She laughs, deftly weaving through the remnants of the late-night crowd, pausing for half a step to tug on Hector's hand before hanging an abrupt right towards a bank of turbolifts.

"Does that mean I have a choice of what I want it to mean?"  She flashes a cocky grin of her own, adding, "I didn't think you played unless you knew you could win, so does that mean you're always playing for keeps, Hector?"

"Pretty much, yeah."  Hector shrugged, and maneuvered around a lager group of half-drunk patrons. "When there's stakes involved, yeah.  Its different when its for fun of course.  I just don't see a reason in half-assing things, even if it don't mean much.  You miss out on a lot if you don't go the whole nine yards, I'm sure you can agree."

Unfortunately, there was nothing wrong with her logic, he sighed at her question though,"Ummm...well....I suppose we can't start with easier questions?" He sighed, closed his eyes and then shrugged, very little of which she could see.

His fingers moved again, digging into her stomach slightly,"Well..ummm...I'm not used to this...ummm....proximity." Proximity? What?"Attention is also new....ummm...sheltered upbringing....ummm..uncertainity...umm....fear...ummm....nerves."

He sighed, eyes still closed, he had to try for an actual sentence here,"I don't know what to expect...ummm...you make me feel....ummm."

He was bright red now, his hand tightening on his abdomen as he searched his feelings,"strange...worried. This is a path I've not walked...yeah...not even looked down...ummm....freaks me out."

Oh yes, and she killed the last lover she had...well maybe not her last.

Oriana cuts her eyes sidelong at Hector, her voice heavily laced with amusement beneath the brandy that was well on its way to settling in.  "I'm not quite sure if I should take that as a compliment or a warning, if playing with me involves stakes instead of fun."  She lifts an eyebrow slightly, electing to not clarify whether or not that was an insinuation that she didn't mean much.  Any attempts she might be making to feign disapproval are somewhat ineffective, though, the corners of her lips twitching with the urge to break into a grin.

"Screw nine yards.  I want ten," she quips upon reaching the lift doors, and pressing the button to catch the next one going their way.

Helene turns completely about in the booth, throwing one arm over his shoulders and behind his head as she all but lays against him, her other hand finding it's way to the side of his face. Her vividly green eyes lock onto his blue ones across the all too short space between them, as she regards him thoughtfully for a long moment, and then in a soft voice only he could hear, she starts talking.

"Duran... I'm not going to hurt you, or any of your friends. Nor do I want anything from you that you are unwilling to give. But, I have to assume that since you started this, there was a reason. Probably not a reason that you can articulate, stammering like that," she says with a smirk, "but we'll deal with that later. One thing at a time, right? So since the waitress is on her way over with our food, how about you take a moment to gather your thoughts, take some deep breathes to soothe your nerves, and when you've found a better sense of balance, you go ahead and start your story. Unless you have a better plan?"

"I never said the stakes had to be serious."  Hector could see her smile, and didn't blame her for it.  It was hard to feign seriousness when you were at least half drunk - maybe three-quarters.  "Ten yards, huh?  I might be able to manage that.  Never tried for ten before."  He leaned against the wall while they waited for the elevator, and gave her a quizzical look.  "Why ten yards?  What's the tenth yard all about?  I think I'm missing something... maybe its the drunkness."

Duran flushed as she moved over, his hands ending up on her lower back but only because he didn't know where else to put them as he breathed and looked into her eyes, for a long time.

He looked over at the waitress, watched the food arrived and focused on breathing. The problem wasn't that he felt 'bad' the problem was it felt....right...natural...and it was.

Looking at the food and then at her he said,"I don't know what I'm willing to do yet...ummm..." He flushed and then sighed,"May as well start from the beginning. I called you over....ummm...to check...umm...if you were...a Sith recruiter.....I spotted your lightfoil...ummm, realised the kid was a sensitive....ummm...you don't look Jedi."

Then he leaned into her hand,"I'm glad you weren't...."

Breathing in he focused on the story of why they had ended up here, that was easier to talk about, and said,"Our story, well we're working for the Republic, a special forces team. We were sent to Corillia to investigate a disturbance in the Force....when we arrived...things went from bad to karked up in seconds."

His hands slid up her back, his mind on the image of the fleet arriving around them,"We hyper jumped in and were immediately joined by the Sith war fleet..." He still couldn't believe that this was a coincidence,"From there, we managed to run the blockade, Hector is a very good pilot, and land at the sight where we had been told the disturbance was emanating...turned out to be a secret munitions factory for some Sith Lord...who claimed to be a double agent."

He chuckled,"Karked up is the word, when everything settled down, turned out the Sith Lord wanted us to save her daughter and the other force sensitives from the people she worked for. Which was a little suspicious." He was almost relaxed now, his mind on the problems they had faced,"The ground team had fought some Sith force users, while we were shooting down a Sith Ship, they wanted to take them captive, we wanted them dead. This ended up with us being ordered off the planet to ask if we're supposed to be working for a Sith Lord...and so were here waiting for a return message...."

His arms had crossed over on her back, one hand resting on either side of her body, just below her ribs,"Questions?"